


Spectacular! Spectacular!

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: love lifts us up where we belong [1]
Category: Broadway RPF, Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beauty - Freeform, Broadway AU, Desire, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Freedom, Jealousy, Love, Slow Burn, Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: Scott Moir, a seasoned Broadway performer, is excited to star in the new stage production of one of his favorite musicals. But when the woman set to play Satine pulls out of the show at the last minute – her replacement might just be the sparkling diamond he didn’t know he was looking for.An AU where Scott & Tessa are the stars of the new Moulin Rouge production in Boston.(inspired by an idea suggested by @virtuemoireh & my own experience at the play)





	1. There Was a Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using the real cast and crew of Moulin Rouge as characters in this. Any resemblance to the actual people is coincidental. These are meant to be entirely fictitious depictions.

** Chapter 1: There Was a Boy **

****

           

Mornings in New York City are predictable. There’s the noise that never really stopped from the night before, the sirens, the morning sun or grey clouds (depending on the day). It’s cold in the winter and sweltering in the summer and spring and fall have a few good days in between. Taxis and tourists make up the meat and potatoes in the giant melting pot – and aspiring actors and businessmen fill in all the rest. There is an ebb and a flow to the crowds, but they never really go away completely. 

At any given moment walking down the street you can smell delicious baked goods or urine, if the wind is blowing in the wrong direction. And the steam rising from the manholes and gutters leaves you both full of curiosity and with a faint sense of nausea. Like you just _know_ something lives down there.

For Broadway star Scott Moir, New York City has been his home for the past eleven years. Leaving his tiny hometown of Ilderton with a couple hundred bucks and a suitcase full of dreams, he had scrimped and saved and worked his ass off in shitty waiter and delivery jobs until he finally landed the role of Tony in West Side Story in 2009. It was his breakout moment.

Since then he’d been working his way through every major role he could – making a name for himself. And now he would soon be starring in Moulin Rouge, one of his favorite musicals, opposite Karen _fucking_ Olivo.

His city was beautiful, and life was good.

           

 

On this particular morning, however, life is pretty shitty. Or, at least, that’s how Scott feels the moment his blender quits working in the middle of making his breakfast smoothie/mandatory protein shake that he chugs every morning before hitting the gym.

“Goddammit!” He yells, hitting the side of the eight year old machine (or is it eighty?) that seems to have finally died. He’d thought the duct tape he’d carefully wrapped around the cord last week would keep it alive, but apparently it’s decided to give up the ghost for good. “Stupid machine. I should have bought a replacement last year like Kaitlyn wanted.” He mutters to his empty apartment. Voice echoing around the sparse furnishings. 

His ex-girlfriend had always harped on him about replacing all his old stuff, but he never got around to actually doing it. It wasn’t a money issue, it was just that Scott figured if something worked why throw it out? A trait the never ceased to irritate Kait.

He’s still glaring at the failed appliance and feeling irritated at the prospect of no breakfast (unless he wants a particularly chunky meal. Gross), when his phone starts to ring from inside his gym bag.

“Bad news.” His director, Alex Timbers, says the moment Scott answers without even so much as a hello. “We’ve lost Karen.”

“Uh… what do you mean you’ve lost her? Like… she’s missing?” It’s five thirty in the morning. Scott _really_ isn’t in the mood for whatever weird shit Alex is trying to pull. Propping his phone between his shoulder and chin, he opens the fridge to see if anything can be scavenged. The eggs expired two weeks ago and when he shakes the milk carton there's a rather foreboding sound of things moving around inside. He tosses both straight into the garbage. Toast it is. He makes a mental note to go grocery shopping.  _T_ _oday_. 

“No, as in Karen has pulled out of Moulin Rouge. She got offered a headliner position in Lin’s new touring show.”

“Is this some kind of April Fool’s Day joke, because I’m not in the mood, Alex.” The sick feeling in his stomach tells him that this is no joke, but the words still hit hard when he hears them.

“It’s not a joke, Scott. Bill, Gerry, Carmen, and I spent half of the night trying to convince her to stay, at least through Boston, but she was adamant.”

“Well, fuck.” This is officially the shittiest of mornings. Not that Scott can blame Karen though – who turns down Lin-Manual Miranda? But it still throws a massive wrench into pre-production, not to mention all the hard work they’d done workshopping the play last fall. Now they’ll basically have to start over and Scott’s going to have to adjust to playing opposite a new woman. “Do you have a replacement in mind?”

Ever the problem-solver, Alex responds right away. “We’ve sent notices out to a few casting agencies and Jim and Stephen are already ‘pounding the pavement’ as they say for the perfect Satine.”

Scott likes Jim Carnahan and Stephen Kopel. They’re good casting directors – some of the best! But even they can’t achieve the impossible. “We already had the perfect Satine, Alex. Whoever they get is going to just be a knock-off brand.”

“I can’t see it that way and you know that. We’ll find somebody. This is New York! Talent is limitless.”

Scott lets out a long-suffering sigh, ruffling his hand through his hair. They’d asked him to grow it out a little for the show, and he’s got a nice flow going now. “What do you need me to do?”

He can tell even through the phone that Alex is relieved they’ve moved onto the next stage of the problem – never one who was comfortable dwelling on the issue. “We’ll do the preliminary auditions tomorrow and then bring you in for the callbacks so we can do some chemistry tests and make sure your voices sound good together before we make the final decision. I’ll call you.”

Scott makes a sound of acknowledgement before Alex ends the call, probably already running off to do battle, and slouches against the counter. The chunky green goo currently solidifying inside his blender looks a lot like a physical manifestation of how his stomach feels. This is _not_ how any of this was supposed to go.

Giving up on the morning, Scott pulls off his hoodie and climbs back into bed to watch old hockey reruns – letting the disappointment wash over him. He’s still excited to play Christian, but this new Satine couldn’t possibly measure up to his original costar. 

 

* * *

 

 

One of the lesser known facts about Broadway is that there is a ten-story building called 42nd Street Studios where all Broadway musicals and plays get rehearsed before moving to their respective theatres. Scott loves it. Loves the constant activity and sense of camaraderie that comes with so many people under one roof living out their dreams (or at least, working one step closer towards them).

So he can’t help the spring in his step and smile on his face as he swipes his keycard and wanders into the lobby – coffee in one hand and his other shoved deep into the pocket of his jeans. He doesn't relish the prospect of finding a new Satine, but he's made his peace with it (mostly) after a long talk with Karen and a few days to vent into a punching bag. Boxing can be an incredibly great therapist.

Waving hello to a couple people he recognizes, Scott isn't paying attention when he rounds the corner to the elevators. Which is why he immediately smashes into a young woman coming at high speed in the opposite direction. His coffee goes everywhere - burning his hand – the shock of which causes him to drop it. Splashes of brown scatter across both their shoes. 

"Oh my God! Don’t you ever watch where you’re going!?” The woman jumps back, sounding horrified as she looks down at her ruined white blouse.

“Me? What about you? Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to run inside?” He wipes his red hand off on the side of his pants, before bending down to pick up the spilled cup. Which unfortunately seems to have been the woman’s plan as well – their heads knocking together with a crack as they both bend over at the same time.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.” He groans, rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry, but I don’t believe in leaving garbage around.” She scoops up the cup and tosses it in the trash before turning to glare at him, and Scott, through his watering eyes, is immediately struck by how beautiful she is.

That is, how beautiful she _would_ be, if she weren’t currently looking at him like he’s one of the disgusting puddles scattering New York’s sidewalks. He can see the recognition in her eyes – she knows exactly who he is, but she stays committed to her glare and that’s kind of a nice change. Scott’s used to girls throwing themselves at him as soon as they realize who he is. Furthermore, he can tell by her accent that she’s Canadian, and that automatically endears her to him somewhat. It’s always nice to bump into (pun not intended) someone from home.

“Look, let’s just agree that we both were being careless. I have an extra shirt in my locker upstairs – let me get it for you.” He offers in an attempt to placate her. 

One of her perfect eyebrows slowly arches upwards as she takes him in, clearly debating whether or not it’s worth it to continue on her way with a giant brown wet spot on her chest. (A chest he’s very much not paying attention to, thank you very much, despite the way the wet fabric is clinging to her.)

She finally sighs and mutters, "I really want to say no, but I have an audition and I don’t want to show up like this.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.” She says the word like she has to physically wrench it out from her mouth, and Scott feels a flash of irritation at her. He’s trying to be _nice_. It’s not like he woke up this morning intending to bulldoze over the first attractive woman he saw. In fact, Scott has a strict policy of  _not_ injuring women, but the way she's reacting he may as well have done it on purpose.

They don’t speak as they take the elevator up and the silence grows increasingly awkward as they pass each floor. Filling the small metal container like a gas pressing in at them from all sides. It’s been a long time since Scott felt uncomfortable like this, years of networking and schmoozing and meeting fans at the stage-door had pretty much wiped out any social anxiety he might have ever had (which he hadn’t). But there’s something about this woman that knocks him off center.

“Here. It’ll be a little big on you, but it should work until you can change.” He hands over his shirt once they reach his locker – an old grey thing with a faded Leafs logo on it – and as Scott watches her hands curl around the fabric he blurts out. “Please bring it back tomorrow though.” He's had that shirt since he was in high school and isn't quite ready to part with it, even though a few more runs through the wash and it'll probably be illegible. 

“Yeah, funny thing about me. I also don’t steal.” Her voice is still cold, but her lips twitch and Scott thinks _maybe_ she's trying to be funny. “Turn around, please.”

"Actually, I’m already running late to an appointment. Break a leg at your audition though.” He gives her a small smile and heads down the hallway to Rehearsal Room 14 where a few women are already seated outside the door. He nods at them, ignoring their little gasps and giggles, and steps inside - trying hard to forget the beautiful brunette with the chip on her shoulder.

 

“Scott! You’re here. Excellent. We’ve got five women coming in today that we narrowed it down to from the twenty that Stephen and I found. They are all promising, but of course we’ll have to see how they do today and opposite you.” Jim says as Scott scans the room. The producers, Justin and Matt (in charge of the music), Alex, and Danny Burstein are all there. Everyone clearly anxious to find their new star.

The first four girls are… fine. They’ve all got good voices and they’re pretty enough, but Scott doesn’t really feel a connection to any of them and they don’t _feel_ right for Satine.

“This is hopeless. None of these women are Karen.” Danny whispers in his ear, and he can’t help but agree with his costar. Oh well, maybe the two of them can carry the show through the Boston previews until they have more time to find a permanent replacement for the Broadway run. Or maybe by then Karen will want to come back. He can always dream.

“This last one is my personal favorite.” One of the producers, Gerry, says after the fourth girl has left the room – her final wobbly notes from _Memory_ still hanging in the air like a bad perfume. She’d cried entirely too much for a confident, world-weary courtesan. “Tessa Virtue, age twenty-eight. Pretty little thing. I plucked her off the tiny stage she was on myself. Some droll production about French politics.” He shudders as if that’s the worst thing in the world. “But I think she shows real promise.”

Scott doesn’t like the glint in Gerry’s eye, or the sleaze dripping from his voice. Whoever this girl is, she’s probably only here because Gerry wants to fuck her. “Can she sing?” Scott asks Alex, who nods.

“We asked her to perform something upbeat yesterday and she did a surprisingly good version of Katy Perry’s _Firework_ , ironically. But she was a little stiff and unemotional. I’m hoping it was just nerves.”

Hmmph. Not exactly glowing praise. Danny gives him a _look_ and they both settle into their chairs. Maybe weepy girl will be their Satine after-all. Alex gestures for the door to be opened and Tessa to be brought in.

 

The first thing Scott notices about her is a faded Leafs logo and his stomach drops to his feet. As his eyes slowly move up her body, he prays that by some crazy miracle another girl in New York has that same t-shirt.

No such luck. He’d recognize that face anywhere. It’s burned on his memory and will probably feature as the face of his internal voice anytime he fucks up from now on.

It’s clear from the way her eyes have gone wide and her mouth pinches into a little O that she was not expecting to see him here either. “Hello again.” Scott says for lack of anything better to say, and he feels nine pairs of eyes turn to look at him – not including the ones belonging to the woman standing across the room.

“You two know each other?” Gerry asks with a frown.

“Not really. We bumped into each other downstairs.” Scott says with a shrug. He can see her playing with the ring on her left middle finger – clearly nervous and uncomfortable under their scrutiny – and Scott knows she isn’t right for Satine. There’s no way this stiff, frigid woman can play the part of a seductive prostitute. No matter how pretty (beautiful) she is.

She stands up a little straighter, if possible, and walks towards them with a surge of confidence, shaking everyone’s hands and introducing herself. When her soft, warm hand slips inside his Scott is struck by how green her eyes are up close. How had he not noticed before? A man could get lost in those eyes. He shakes himself.  _Don't be ridiculous, Moir._

“Miss Virtue, if you’d like to begin.” Alex gestures widely and Tessa steps back into the center of the room and clears her throat.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night – take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.” She has no accompaniment, merely her own voice to support her, but the room falls silent all the same. From the moment she opens her mouth, it’s like a switch is flipped. Tessa is gone and Satine is here in the room with them. Satine with all of her heartbreak and despair and the last clinging vestiges of hope.

Tessa’s eyes glisten as she moves through the song, but the tears never fall. They just hang there perfectly on her eyelashes like some kind of magic trick. Scott can’t look away from her. None of them can. And when she finally finishes the song with a tremulous, “You were only waiting for this moment to arise…” Scott finds himself clapping loudly along with everyone else.

The switch back is instantaneous, Satine is gone, and Tessa blushes furiously at the sound of their applause.

“Well done, my dear! Well done!” Gerry stands up and goes to pat her on the arm, voice boisterous and booming. “Didn’t I tell you gentlemen? Let’s hear you with Scott now.”

“Oh, right now?” She looks over at him nervously, hands moving back to play with her ring in a move that Scott is coming to realize is reflexive for her.

“No time like the present, if Scott’s alright with it.”

Scott looks over at Alex, who nods and says, “We don’t really have any time to waste. Do you know Elephant Love Medley from the movie?”

“Yes.” Tessa says with another glance at Scott.

“Great. Let’s try that then.”

Scott feels pretty confident that this is where she’ll be beaten. She captured Satine’s melancholy really well (perfectly, if he’s being honest), but he doesn’t think she has it in her to play flirtatious and coy. He still can’t see her as a courtesan.

“Do you need sheet music?” He asks as he takes his place beside her.

“No.” She says, her voice determined and her eyes staring straight ahead as they wait for the music to get queued up. It makes him want to push her buttons.

“Are you sure? It’s pretty important you don’t get the words wrong. I know them perfectly and I’d hate to embarrass you.”

He smirks when she turns to glare at him again. Her eyes two fiery emeralds that somehow manage to sparkle in the crappy fluorescent lighting of the rehearsal room.

“Mr. Moir, I have been singing along with this soundtrack for seventeen years. And you couldn’t possibly embarrass me. Yourself, however… well, we both know you're good at that.” She turns away again and Scott frowns. There’s definitely some fire in her – which is good. She’ll need it if she gets the part.

He starts right on queue with the line “Love is a many splendored thing!” Maybe playing it up a bit much for a simple callback audition, but he wants to goad her a little bit. To his delight, she plays along – throwing him a roll of her eyes and sassy, “Please don’t start that again.”

By the time they start in on the melody Scott is having fun. “I was made for lovin’ you baby, you were made for lovin’ me.” He moves around her and Tessa follows easily after him. The two of them falling seamlessly into their roles.  

“The only way of lovin’ me baby, is to pay a lovely fee.”

They dance around each other almost subconsciously – the push and pull of the lyrics coming as naturally to them as breathing – and by the time they finish with the harmonized line “How wonderful life is now you’re in the world” Scott knows - he just _knows -_ that they’ve found Satine.

“Thank you Miss Virtue, we’ll review all our notes from today and be giving you a call.” Alex has to say this, has to appear to deliberate with the casting directors and the producers, but Scott can see from their faces that Tessa will be getting **The Call** later this afternoon, if not the second she leaves the building.

“Not bad.” Scott can’t resist throwing in another jab before she leaves and Tessa takes the bait.

“You weren’t too bad either, despite the slip up.”

“Excuse me?” Scott’s smile fades as she takes the opportunity to smirk at him this time.

“You messed up a line. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure you’ll be fine after a little practice.” She pats his arm sympathetically before swinging her purse over her shoulder and heading for the door. _Oh no no no_ – she’s not getting away that easily. Scott jogs over before she can disappear.

“What are you talking about? No I didn’t.”

“You said ‘We should be lovers it’s just a fact’ and the line is _actually_ ‘We should be lovers, and that’s a fact’.”

Scott feels his ears and neck heat up and Tessa smiles triumphantly. It irritates the hell out of him – he hates to lose. “Even if that were true, and I’m not saying it is, I still know it better than you.”

“The evidence is to the contrary, I’m afraid.” Tessa states with a mocking little pout that Scott suddenly wants to kiss off of her face. The urge is so overwhelming that he can’t think of a proper comeback and Tessa disappears out the door before he can recover.

Where the hell did that come from? This little average height brunette with her mischievous eyes and annoying as hell personality has thrown him for a loop and Scott _hates_ it. He shouldn’t want to kiss her, he should want to never see her again.

“Wow, Scott. She was really something, wasn’t she?” Jim asks once he rejoins the group, pointedly not noticing the way a few of the guys are staring at him – like they see him a little too clearly right now.

“She was alright.” He shrugs noncommittedly, trying to convey his patented devil-may-care attitude and keep his real feelings buried inside. A task that’s always been difficult for him. He tends to wear his heart on his sleeve – useful for an actor, disastrous for him personally.

“I think your chemistry was fantastic.” Stephen, the other casting director, pipes up. “The two of you will really be able to sell the love story, I think.”

Scott looks at Alex as his last hope, but the man merely hums in agreement before saying, “Gentlemen, Tessa Virtue will be our Satine.”

He knew it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was fortunate enough to see the musical in Boston opening weekend and it's been playing non-stop in my head ever since. I'm excited for this story - even though the thought of replacing Aaron Tveit kills me. And I hope you all enjoy it too. 
> 
> Also, Karen Olivo is amazing and no offense meant to her at all by replacing her with Tessa. <3


	2. A Kiss May Be Grand But...

**Chapter 2. A Kiss May Be Grand But...**

 

 

It’s funny how quickly life can change. That Wednesday morning Tessa sleeps in until eight, makes a couple of poached eggs, and heads to hot yoga like she does every other day. If there’s an extra bounce to her step and a smile that won’t seem to leave her face, well, that's purely coincedental.

She’d received the call yesterday afternoon from Alex Timbers informing her that she’d gotten the part of Satine and, after a screaming phone call to her sister and a slightly calmer call to her mother, Tessa had continued about her day. She had been instructed to wait for more information regarding costume fittings and the first read-through, so until then she was trying to remain calm and go about her life as if everything was totally normal.

Which brings her back to this morning.

The amount of time it takes for her life to change is exactly the number of minutes between when she steps into the shower and when she steps out. She’s barely finished wrapping her fluffy white towel around her torso, tucking it in under her arm so that it stays up, when she hears a loud buzzing from her bedroom.

The source of the incessant noise is her cell phone, resting on her nightstand where she’d left it plugged in. It’s receiving so many texts and calls that the screen doesn’t have a chance to go dark for even a second. She unlocks it and scrolls through the hundreds of notifications from various past coworkers and people she hasn’t spoken to in years, not to mention her exploding Instagram and Twitter accounts.

Tessa taps on Instagram first after reading the notification, “You were tagged in @moulinrougebdwy’s post.” She finds a simple slideshow of the principle cast members – Scott, her, and Danny Burstein.

 

 **moulinrougebdwy:** The time has come to meet our stars, the epicenters of your passions, the apogees of your desires… our Sparkling Diamond, a handsome young American, and our own beloved Harold Zidler!

 

The picture of her is old and hastily edited into a blue and gold theme matching the other two photos, and Tessa stares at it for a long time. It’s weird, seeing herself on a show’s Instagram like this. Surreal. An out of body experience. Part of her can't help but feel like it's another woman's face that she's looking at and the past few days have been nothing but a dream.

She only scrolls through the comments for a second – curiosity getting the best of her. Some are people she knows congratulating her on being cast in such a big role, but unsurprisingly, most of the comments are variations of “Oh my God SCOTT MOIR!” by both women and men alike. 

Not that Tessa can blame them, she’d felt the same way when she first walked into the rehearsal room and saw him sitting there. Although for her the excitement had faded almost instantly given their rather wet and sticky introduction in the lobby. She's pretty sure her entire callback experience for Moulin Rouge will be burned into her memory forever. Even if she ends up with Alzheimer's someday, sitting in a nursing home with nothing but reruns of The Golden Girls for company,  _that_ will be the memory that her brain retains.  

 

\--------

 

The door to the rehearsal room opens and a kid wearing a _Dear Evan Hansen_ t-shirt tells her that the producers are ready and it's her turn. The minute the words leave his mouth Tessa feels like maybe _this_ is the moment of her death. 12:42pm on a Tuesday. Here in a nondescript grey building on 42 nd street in a t-shirt that isn’t hers, smelling strongly of coffee, and wiping her sweaty hands off on her jeans as she makes her way into the rehearsal room for the biggest audition of her life.  The audition for any show is scary; the prospect of doing a musical is terrifying. Tessa hasn’t sang for an audience since she’d been in her university’s production of _Into the Woods_ senior year. But her agent had insisted this was a once in a lifetime opportunity - you didn't get invited to an audition by an executive producer every day - so Tessa had to go.

When she walks in she’s greeted by eight men and one woman all watching her carefully with varying levels of encouraging smiles. All of them, that is, except a guy just center-left looking at her like she’s a demon from his nightmares. The guy from downstairs. Also known as Scott _freaking_ Moir. How did she not know he was playing Christian? She should have known that! He says hello, but all she can do is twist the ring around her middle finger and stare at him.

Okay, yes. She might be royally pissed at him for the Coffee Incident, but still. This was the guy everyone talked about back home in London. The guy she’d harbored a secret crush on ever since he’d been Tony in West Side Story nine years ago. His version of Maria is the most played song on her iTunes. And she’s supposed to audition in front of him!? _Oh my god, I’m wearing his shirt_ she realizes with a sudden lurch. She is auditioning to play opposite her celebrity crush, in his shirt, after yelling at him. Jordan is never going to let her live this down.

She’s about to just give up, thank them for their time, and go home, but then she takes in his appearance – the disinterest, the bad posture... It doesn't take a body language expert to realize that he doesn’t think she’ll be any good - he’s already written her off.

Nothing motivates Tessa better than people underestimating her. She knows Moulin Rouge like the back of her hand. Understands every nuance of Satine – the sexy courtesan, the aspiring actress, the hopeless dreamer, the woman in love. She straightens her spine, takes a deep breath, and when she’s given the queue to start Tessa gives the best damn rendition of Blackbird by The Beatles these men have ever heard.

The satisfaction she feels at Scott’s dumbfounded expression when she finishes is immense and Tessa puffs up like a peacock on the inside, even as she blushes at everyone else’s approval.

The request to sing Elephant Love Medley comes as a shock, and Tessa hates unexpected surprises like this. Normally she’d spend a few hours getting reacquainted with the song and making sure she knows every word and note. But she watches as Scott walks to her side with a little swagger in his step, and her determination becomes as hard as steel. She can beat him in this, too. 

This man is a challenge, and Tessa loves competition. Nobody who’s a youngest child lacks that innate desire to prove yourself, and Tessa is no different. She glowers at him when he attempts to goad her into a reaction, but doesn’t allow him to distract her from her goal – proving she has what it takes to be Satine.

Halfway through the song she has the disturbing realization that she’s having fun. _They’re_ having fun. Dancing and harmonizing and slipping into their respective roles like a second skin. It's hard  _not_ to enjoy yourself singing Elephant Love Medley, no matter who your partner is, but having your partner be someone with an amazing voice and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes doesn't hurt. For a minute Tessa forgets that he’s kind of a jackass and lets herself get swept up in one of her favorite songs.   

He doesn’t let her forget for long though, saying after it's over that she isn’t bad in a mocking voice and claiming that he knows the song better than her, and she can’t resist getting the last word in before marching out the door.

 

\--------

 

Tessa snorts as she thinks about his angry face when she'd walked out of the room. It's going to be a long four months having to work with him, but if she keeps their interactions off the stage at a minimum, she figures she can make it through without killing him. 

She replies to her texts, thanking everyone for their heartfelt (mostly – some of her old coworkers are… less than enthusiastic) congratulations. She's barely made it through half of them when a message comes in from her new director, Alex.

 

 **Alex Timbers:** Tessa, we’ve scheduled a photoshoot with Carol Rosegg for you and Scott on Saturday at 11. Just some basic promo stuff for the show. Let me know if that doesn’t work for you.

 

 **Tessa:** That sounds fine. I’ll be there! Do I need to wear anything in particular?

 

 **Alex Timbers:** No. Hair, make-up, and wardrobe will be provided. Thanks!

 

Quick amendment to the plan: spend the minimum amount of time with Scott off the stage and  _apparently_ required promotional activities. It's fine. She can handle it. 

 

 

 

She shows up to the photoshoot fifteen minutes early, fresh-faced and dressed in her favorite New York City Ballet sweater and leggings – wanting to be comfortable and ready to easily change into whatever they decide they want her to wear. She just hopes it's not something ridiculous - like a green bikini with tassels. 

The studio is located at 60th East and 9th Street (which she's happy about because it means she can treat herself to the nearby DŌ cookie dough afterwards) in a nondescript brown brick building that Tessa questions at first. It looks more residential than commercial, but a small directory by the main entrance lists Carol Rosegg Photography as being on the top floor.

“Tessa! Pleasure to meet you. I’m Carol.” A middle-aged woman with bushy brown hair greets her as soon as she enters with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile. Tessa shakes it willingly, instantly taking a liking to the photographer.

“Nice to meet you too. What do you want me to do first?”

“Why don’t you head over there and the crew will get you ready. We’re still waiting for Scott to arrive.”

 

Forty-five minutes later and they're still waiting.

Tessa stands by the window watching the spring rainstorm pelt the glass – echoing around the room like a royal tattoo. She’s wearing the ruby red dress they’d picked out for her – afraid to sit down lest it get all wrinkly. It’s beautiful - a knee-length silky, corseted dress reminiscent of Nicole Kidman’s famous red dress in the movie, and Tessa feels gorgeous and confident and halfway to being the character already. It would just be nice if her costar would show up.

The minutes tick by loudly from the clock on the wall, and Tessa starts to sing in her head "Hickory dickory dock, Tessa Virtue hates Scott..." 

When the man in question finally arrives he blows in like a hurricane – soaking wet and moving around the room in a crazy whirlwind of apologies. Looking entirely too good for someone who just came in from a rainstorm. Really it’s unfair – if that had been her she’d have looked like a drowned cat, or the girl from The Ring. She warily keeps her eyes on the tray of coffee that he’s holding, and as soon as he approaches her she holds up a hand to stop him.

“That’s quite close enough, thank you.”

“Wow. Kind of rude, don’t you think, T? One of these is for you.” He has the decency to look chagrined, at least. Maybe it really is an accident that he's late, after-all - it's not like the subway is famous for being reliable.

Then it hits her what he'd said. T? _T?_ Where does he get off showing up almost an hour late and giving her a nickname like they’re friends and not nemesis, which she has just now decided they are.

“You can set it down safely over there.” She points to a nearby table. “And don’t call me that.”

“Sure.” He shrugs easily. “Whatever you say, T-Girl. You look beautiful, by the way.” He winks at her and she’s certain he only said the last part to get on her nerves, then waltzes over to wardrobe before she has a chance to respond – leaving her there sputtering like an idiot and fuming. 

It's going to be a long day.

 

Once he’s dressed in a greyish-tan flowy shirt in the style of the Belle Epoque and black pants, Carol has them stand in front of the white backdrop next to a prop lamppost so that they can get started.

“Okay, let’s start simple. Tessa, we’ll have you stand next to Scott and rest your head on his shoulder. Scott, put your arm around her.”

Tessa can’t help the huff of air she lets out before gingerly resting her head where she was instructed. She can tell that Scott is standing stiffly – his arm barely touching her as he wraps it around her back. Carol snaps a few pictures before looking down at her camera with a little frown. It's obvious to everyone in the room that this isn't working. 

“You look like strangers. We need you to look like lovers. Move a little closer together.”

Scott tightens his hold and pulls her in closer to his body – so that her entire front is pressed up against his side. “Come on, Virtch. I don’t bite.” He says, then smirks at her with a wicked glint in his eye. “Unless you ask nicely.”

She’s pretty certain that her cheeks are beet red. The  _cheek_ of him. Unable to think of a comeback, she just glares at him again – an expression she’s a little worried will freeze on her face by the time they finish the show together.

“Good, good. These are fine for the straightforward shots. Now lets get some with the two of you facing each other – foreheads touching. Scott put your hand on the side of her face. Try to look joyously in love, Tessa. Like _you’ve never seen the sky before_.” Carol chuckles at her own joke and Tessa takes a deep breath as Scott’s forehead meets hers.

His hand is gentle on the side of her face, his thumb brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way, and Tessa’s heart thumps traitorously for a moment. The skin where his hand is touching tingles and it infuriates her. Curse her stupid body for still finding him attractive. She keeps her eyes downcast, forcing the pesky muscle in her chest to behave and beat normally.

“Ready, Tessa?” Carol asks, and Tessa takes a moment to mentally prepare herself. _You are an actress, Goddammit!_ _You are Satine and you are blindingly in love._

She looks up then, giving Scott a beautiful smile and pouring every ounce of love she can into her eyes. The clicks of the camera start firing away, but it’s Scott’s face that Tessa keeps her eyes on. What had started out as his signature smirk has faded into a look of awe and confusion – like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing in front of him. His eyes roam her face, lips inches from her own, and Scott just barely starts to lean in infinitesimally when Carol announces they can move onto the next pose. For one fleeting moment Tessa feels disappointed that he'd been prevented from reaching his goal (if that  _was_ his goal).

“Who knew you could actually smile, T-Bomb.” Scott teases, testing out yet another nickname, and the irritation comes flooding back.

“It’s called acting. But for the record, I smile all the time at things I like.”  

He places his hand over his heart dramatically. “You wound me! And here I thought we were supposed to be lovers.”

"Psh. You couldn’t handle it.” She turns around so that her back is facing him to wait for Carol’s next instruction, but barely a few seconds pass before she feels Scott’s hands on either side of her waist.

"Is that so? Sounds… intriguing.” She’s not sure why he’s whispering, but the quiet sound of his voice, low and husky in her ear, has her rebellious skin breaking out in goosebumps.

“Wow, that’s really great guys.” Carol says as she takes a few pictures, snapping Tessa’s attention back to the task at hand. “Now let’s do a couple where Tessa’s dead. Scott, cradle her neck in your left hand and support her body with your right. Tessa, let him hold you and keep your eyes closed – I want a really mournful atmosphere. Scott, you've just lost the love of your life - make us feel it." 

 

The rest of the shoot passes with relatively little incident, mostly because Tessa refuses to speak a word to Scott. It seems he knows what's good for him, because he doesn't speak either - just does exactly what Carol tells him to do and nothing more. 

When they're done she lets them look over the shots, and Tessa has to admit they're pretty good. Especially the ones where their foreheads are touching and the ones where she's supposed to be dead. 

"Wow. You really look devastated there." Tessa comments, pointing to Scott's grief-stricken expression as he cradles her in his arms.

"I was imagining how I'd feel if the Maple Leafs lost the Stanley Cup." 

A stunted laugh breaks free before she can stop it, and Scott grins at her - his eyes doing an adorable wrinkly thing around the corners as his whole face lights up. 

"Was that a laugh, Tessie?" 

"Absolutely not, Scottie." She throws back, pursing her lips together to prevent any more unwanted sounds or smiles from leaving her body. 

He visibly shutters. "Please don't call me that." 

She feels the evil grin spread across her face and does nothing to prevent it.  _Ha! A weakness_. "I'm sorry, Scottie. You don't like someone calling you a name that isn't yours, Scottie?" 

"Cute." His jaw clenches and he turns away from her and Tessa mentally crows in triumph. 

"We're going to have a costume change now, and then shoot a promo video. Don't worry," Carol hastens to add at their worried expressions, "You'll just need to do a simple waltz, maybe a few spins. We've got a background set up over there that we'll film in front of and then add music later. Very simple." 

Simple. Sure. 

 

They change Tessa into a long black dress with a plunging V and pull her hair back into a sleek ponytail. The accompanying smokey eyes and tassel earrings complete the transformation from the tender lover of earlier into the sultry seductress. Tessa likes it - she feels sexy and confident. 

Scott steps out from his dressing room in a tight black turtleneck that sticks to the muscles of his chest and back like Velcro and black slacks. The ensemble, in conjunction with his dark hair and sharp facial features, is breathtaking. Tessa's not sure he's ever looked more handsome. 

"Wow, Virtch, check out that get-up." He gestures to her outfit, eyes raking over her slowly from top to bottom. His expression makes her feel desirable, but the way he says it makes it sound like she looks utterly ridiculous. 

"Nice. What are you supposed to be, some sort of cliche interpretive dancer? Going to show us your mindblowing take on what climate change looks like through the medium of dance?" 

"You two." Carol chuckles as she walks between them, shaking her head affectionately. "You remind me of me and my husband when we first met." 

That pulls both of them up short, and they follow after her with tails between their legs - refusing to look at each other. For Tessa her embarrassment at their behavior stems mostly from the fact that the idea of her and Scott being romantically involved in any way makes her want to pull her hair out. 

Scott whistles when they reach the other room. "That's impressive, eh?" 

Tessa looks up to find that someone had painted ROXANNE in giant red letters on the wall along with a silhouette of the two of them. "Amazing! Who did this?" 

"Someone one of the producers hired. They really want the show to do well so they're pulling out all the stops. I think we should definitely take some promotional photos in front of this, along with the video." 

 

"Stop looking at me like that." Tessa murmurs as they waltz. Closely. Cameras move around them capturing every move and Tessa focuses on keeping her lips as still as possible as she talks. 

"Like what?" Scott replies, his lips barely moving as well. 

" _You_ know." And surely he must. He has to be looking at her all...  _sultry_ on purpose. She knows they're playing parts here, but do his eyes really have to be dilated? How does he do that on command, anyway - just to mock her? It makes them dark and  _heavy_ and she feels every look like a phantom touch on her skin. 

He doesn't reply, just tilts the corner of his mouth up and spins her around, dipping her in a mirror image of the pose painted on the wall behind him. When he pulls her back up she's much closer than before and he grazes the side of her head with his nose - his lips a hairsbreadth away from her cheek. 

Her heart thuds loudly and Tessa realizes he's goading her again. "You're not quite the Lothario you think you are, you know?" 

"I don't think that." He argues quietly.

"Please. Everyone's heard the stories." She scoffs and rolls her eyes, and he freezes before sharply pulling away from her. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looks hurt. 

"I think that's enough promotional stuff for today. I've got another appointment." He turns towards Carol with a stiff nod. "Excuse me." 

He's out the door before the rest of them even have a moment to blink. 

 

 

Later that night as she lies in bed, trying to ignore the sound of her roommate having sex next door and the other roommate playing some game called Fortnite loudly in the living room (NYC budget living can be a bitch), she gets a text from Carol with a few of the promo pictures. 

Tessa scrolls through them slowly, and she can't deny that they look pretty damn good. She may be one bad nickname away from shoving Scott in front of a bus, but apparently that translates well into a passionate series of photos. They really do look like they're in love.

She thanks Carol kindly for the preview before saving them in her newly created Moulin Rouge folder on her phone and sending copies to her mom and sister with a few exclamation points and heart eyes emojis. 

Pulling down her eye-mask and popping in her earplugs, Tessa rolls over determined to get some sleep and hopefully have nice dreams. Dreams that absolutely will  _not_ include her irritating, childish, ridiculous, infuriating, confusing, and too-attractive nemesis Scott Moir.

 

          


	3. My Gift is My Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind comments and encouragement so far! I love to see people enjoying my stories, and this one is so fun to write (even if I do go down broadway rabbit holes each chapter).  
> I love you all! <3

**Chapter 3: My Gift is My Song**

 

The past couple of weeks have been… weird. New York City had been hit with a deluge of rain that only a furious Zeus could have summoned. There had been a flash-flood warning, buildings and shows had closed, and it had felt almost apocalyptic in nature.

Scott had taken the opportunity to share a video of himself performing _Singin’ in the Rain_ in a flooded subway station as water poured down the walls. It had gone viral, which wasn’t his intention, but his producers had applauded him. “Any publicity like that is good right now and helps promote the show!”

Promotion. That’s the second reason things have been weird. Scott doesn’t think he’s ever done so much promotion for a show before. Ever since they had cast Satine it’s been pretty much not stop photoshoots and video promos and scheduling interviews.

Which brings him to the third, and arguably biggest, reason the past few weeks have been weird: a certain brunette with startlingly green eyes. Something about her makes him revert back to his school boy mentality. Verbally poking and prodding at her to try and get her attention. He’s just stopped short of reaching out and tugging her silky dark hair when she refuses to look at him – but then she’d probably smash a slate over his head. He’s seen the movie. It’s not worth the risk.

The photoshoot they had done together after her casting had started out so awkwardly. It was obvious from the moment Scott had arrived – late, soaking wet, carrying apology coffee that apparently only pissed her off more – that neither of them were particularly happy to be there.

It wasn’t until Carol made them face each other for a few pictures that things had changed. Tessa had been upset as she looked down, then when she brought her eyes back up her face had transformed into this look of utter devotion. It had taken his breath away and fucked with his head. She was so, _so_ beautiful. He could almost…

He resorted to teasing her out of self-defense, and enjoyed the fact that she was willing to tease him back (although he hated her usage of _Scottie_ for half the shoot). She was constantly surprising him.

Carol had sent him a few of the finished photos and he’d posted one on his Instagram at the producers’ insistence. He’d chosen one of the ones where he’s holding her after she’s “died” – looking devastated. Objectively it’s a great photo and it’s made a lot of people in the comments excited for the musical, but all Scott can think of when he looks at it is how much of Tessa’s creamy skin had been on display from her neck down to the top of her breasts. The smattering of freckles running across her shoulders and collarbone. They added an air of summertime innocence to her – creating a body of contradictions.

 

Scott shakes himself out of his head and focuses on the user manual for his new blender. He’s got an appointment this morning at 42nd Street Studios that he can’t miss. They’re filming a promo video of him in costume singing Come What May and it’s been reiterated to him no less than eleven times how important it is that they get this right.

Everything is riding on people liking him as Christian. His look, his voice, the arrangement. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He’s been awake since four worrying.

_Is my throat sore?_

_What if I’ve gained weight and my costume doesn’t fit?_

_I hope the way I hit that last note resonates well._

_Wait… what if I was flat?_

_Oh my God I have laryngitis._

Needless to say it’s been a stressful morning.

 

He manages to arrive early, for once, and heads straight for the elevators instead of getting distracted saying hi and shooting the breeze with some of the other performers there like he normally would.

To his surprise the doors of the elevator open and Tessa steps out – no make-up, hair in a messy bun, wearing a too-big pink pullover sweater and leggings. She looks good. Does she _always_ have to look good? Really, it’s ridiculous. Scott feels like he's lucky if he makes it out the door with his shirt on straight half the time. 

“Oh! Hi.” She says, forgetting to glare at him like she normally does.

“Hi.”

"What are you doing here?” She fiddles with her ring like on that first day and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It's as if she's left her battle armor off this morning, reverted into Casual Tessa, and Scott likes it. He know's he's supposed to be upstairs, but he'd rather take advantage of this opportunity instead. 

“We’re filming Come What May today.”

“Of course.” She states like she’s mad at herself for not remembering. “I knew that.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” He sincerely hopes they haven’t changed the plan to include her in the video, because he hasn’t mentally prepared for that at ALL. Not that it would be a bad thing, he's just not sure he could concentrate if she's there. 

“Oh… um…” She looks around like it’s a secret she doesn’t want to share. Or maybe she’s embarrassed to tell him? “Just some work with Justin.”

“But rehearsals haven’t started yet.”

“I know, but most of you were part of the workshop last fall and I missed all that, so I’m just trying to catch up. It’s not a big deal. Hey what are you wearing to our Broadway.Com interview tomorrow?”

She switches topics so quickly it nearly gives Scott whiplash. He wants to dig deeper. Find out how much she’s been practicing and if she’s making him look bad by comparison – shouldn’t he be here doing the duets with her? But he follows her lead anyway.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. Why?”

“We should coordinate so that we don’t clash, since they’ll be filming us.”

“I don’t know… probably just a black shirt.”

She nods seriously and looks as if she’s running through a mental rolodex of her closet. “Alright. I think I’ll wear red then. In keeping with the color scheme of the play. See you there!”

She breezes past him without another word and Scott indulges himself and watches her walk away. He's pretty sure that's the first nice conversation they've had and he wants to remember it forever. Record it in a column titled "Becoming Friends with Tessa" - which isn't something he'd thought he wanted until this morning. 

 

“You’re late, Scott.” Bill Damaschke, their executive producer, gives him a stern look the moment he walks through the door.

“I’m really not. I was just talking to Tessa downstairs. You guys didn’t tell me she’d started rehearsals early.” He looks accusingly at both Alex and Justin.

Justin remains unruffled by Scott’s indictment. “Oh, she’s been coming in nearly every day. We go over the music for a few hours and then she does fittings and stuff with Catherine. Very dedicated, that Tessa.”

“Tam’s been coming in a couple times this week to go over the Duke’s parts with her.” Alex adds, and now Scott really feels like an idiot.

“And nobody thought to tell me? Shouldn’t I be coming in too?”

"She asked for Tam. Said she wanted to really nail down their parts together since they have to convince the audience that Satine choosing the Duke might make sense. Officially rehearsals start next week anyway, it’s not a big deal Scott. You already know your part.” Alex dismisses the topic and everyone moves on to the big video today.

Scott takes his seat in a grumpy huff and tries to pay attention, but part of his brain won’t stop thinking about the fact that Tessa has been working so hard, _without_ him. It doesn’t feel right. They’re costars in this. Partners. He should be here too. He feels like he's letting her down somehow. 

 

Eventually he breaks out of his funk and gets into the rigors of filming the promo. It ends up going better than Scott expected. They get to use one of the older theatres and there’s all sorts of fun props like sheet music and rose petals to set the scene and add to the atmosphere. The hardest part is writing “Beauty, Truth, Freedom, Love” in handwriting that looks nice and period appropriate, instead of his regular scrawl.

By the time Alex yells cut for the last time Scott is exhausted, but satisfied. If this doesn't entice people to come to the show, he's not sure what will. 

He falls into bed almost the moment he gets home - already half asleep when his phone starts ringing. One glance, one quick glance, is all he's giving it before he turns it off. Or at least, it would be, if it wasn't his mom's name flashing across the screen. He'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't answer, so with a groan he accepts the call. 

"Hey Mom." 

"Are you alright? You sound tired. You're not working too hard, are you Scott?" Her immediate concern makes him feel twelve years old again. 

"I'm fine, just sleepy." 

"How's it been going with the new production?"

"Pretty good. Very busy. I've got an early morning interview with Tessa tomorrow." 

"Tessa?" She latches onto the name, sounding entirely too curious. Ever since Charlie got married she'd started becoming  _very_ interested in any girl he mentioned - no matter the context. 

"My new costar, Tessa Virtue." 

"Virtue... sounds familiar. I think I knew a Kate Virtue once who had kids who learned to skate at the rink. I wonder if she's any relation." 

Scott knows that sound. His mom's going to be on a hunt for information now, and she'll get it too. She's a regular Nancy Drew, his mother, and it would be impressive if it didn't so often get Scott into trouble. His mom found out every damn time he messed up or pulled a prank growing up and he never could figure out how she did it. 

"Probably. Listen, Mom, I've gotta go to bed. I'll call you later, okay?" 

"You'd better. Sleep well, Scottie, sweet dreams." 

He rolls his eyes affectionately. Only his mom gets to call him that. Ever. "Goodnight." 

 

\--------

 

Scott arrives almost simultaneously with Tessa at the 7th avenue offices of Broadway.Com promptly at seven forty-five. He’d programmed three separate alarms to go off periodically throughout the morning to remind him to be on time. His problem wasn’t waking up early, it was that he always got so distracted doing other things. 

But this morning he had been careful and his reward for that is getting to proudly enter the building at the same time as his costar – who nurses a large coffee and looks like she’s ready to bite the head off the first person that talks to her.

“Not a morning person, eh?” He says cheerfully as they ride up to the sixth floor together.

“No.” She grumbles into her beverage, taking a long drag and closing her eyes. Scott takes the free moment to look at her unobserved. Despite the fact that she’d clearly rather be sleeping, she looked nice this morning. Long dark hair carefully straightened and a pretty red blouse with ruffles on the shoulders. He’d worn black, as promised, although he had been sorely tempted to wear something like bright orange or neon green just to mess with her. He knew that this interview was important though, so he resisted the urge.

They're greeted by a kid with thick-rimmed glasses who looks like he literally just walked out of his last university class. “Scott, Tessa, good morning. My name is Eric King and I’ll be conducting the interview today. We’re going to talk a little bit about the play and then we’ll do a game of Never Have I Ever, if that’s alright with you?”

They both agree and follow him into an office that's already been set up with two armchairs for them to sit in side by side and a camera facing them. Eric sits down across from them with a notepad, looking like he's trying his best to be a serious journalist. 

“Excellent. So let’s start right off. Scott, you’re playing Christian, can you tell us a little bit about the audition process and what drew you to the character?”

“Sure, yeah. The audition process was fairly simple. My agent called me and said I’d been asked to read for a role, but he couldn’t tell me what it was. I met with the director, Alex Timbers, and the executive producer, Bill Damaschke. They handed me an untitled paper with some lines, but I knew right from the start what it was. I mean, “This is a story about love. The woman I love is dead” is a pretty big giveaway, eh? Everyone knows that.” Scott chuckles and Eric does too. He can feel Tessa’s eyes watching him closely and he can’t help but glance over at her. She looks like she’s paying close attention to every word that leaves his mouth.  _Active listening_ , his brain supplies. She'd get an A in it. 

“What drew me to the character is the way he sees the world. That kind of hopeful naiveté at the beginning that carries him unguarded into this love affair, and then the tragedy in the second half that nearly destroys him, but the way he comes back from it in the end and is able to carry on and share their story of love. It’s cheesy, I know.”

“No, it isn’t cheesy.” Tessa chimes in, surprising both Scott and Eric. Her cheeks flush pink as she realizes she spoke out loud and Scott smiles at her – both of them forgetting for a moment that they’re being filmed.

“Everyone loves a good romance.” Eric nods in agreement. “Tessa, you play Satine, our world-weary prostitute. What drew you to that character?”

“Oh, she’s not a prostitute." Tessa hurries to correct him. "I mean, she is, but she’s so much more than that. She’s strong, fierce, funny, tragic, hopeful, loving. And we’ve added another element to our Satine in that the writer, John Logan, has made her sort of a mother hen to the other dancers. I really like that. Her circumstances may force her to sell herself, but she never loses her sense of self, and I love that about her.”

Tessa’s face does this funny thing when she’s talking about something she loves. Her eyes get all big and bright and she smiles a lot and she just… looks straight into your soul. He's not sure how Eric can handle it. Scott watches her with rapt attention – unable to look away. She’s enchanting. He's really impressed by how well she grasps the intricacies of her character. So many people would just pay attention to the surface features and not dig any deeper, but Tessa  _cares_. 

“Moulin Rouge came out seventeen years ago, why do you both think it’s still so popular today?”

Tessa looks at Scott as if waiting for his permission to go first, and it isn't until he nods that she begins to talk. “The great thing about Moulin Rouge is that you put on the music and there’s a tangible burning inside you. It really _connects_ with people. The characters, the storyline, the combination of humor and tragedy – it can all be a little melodramatic on the surface, but underneath people relate to it.”

Scott nods along as she speaks, watching and waiting until she’s done before adding, “Absolutely. And the music is just so memorable too. I mean, who doesn’t instantly recognize Lady Marmalade or Elephant Love Medley?” He throws Tessa a little wink at that, and she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “And Roxanne? I mean, they didn’t have to go that hard, but they did. We hope we can make audiences feel the same way about our adaptation.”

“Are you nervous? About taking on something so iconic?” Scott's pretty sure he's going to get tired of this question before the run of the show is over, but he grits his teeth and answers anyway.

“You know, it’s a performance that could define us for the rest of our careers. That’s definitely a little bit daunting, but it’s also such an amazing opportunity. It's a once in a lifetime kind of thing, so there’s no way we’re gonna regret it.”

Tessa watches him carefully, then chimes in once she's sure he's finished. “Our version will be different. We’ve updated some of the songs and made some tweaks to the storyline, but it’s still raw. Still contemporary. It’s got all the passion, drama, romance. There’s jealousy, rage, sex. We're focused on sinking our teeth into the storyline and trying to get the message across – we, and the rest of the cast, feel that if we can make one person feel something in our show, then we’ve done our job.”

“Exactly. We need people to feel that it’s real. As long as we do that, we’ll consider it a success.” Scott adds, looking at Tessa with a smile instead of Eric. 

“Awesome. That’s really great guys. Now we’ll move on to the Never Have I Ever portion. Are you ready?”

“I guess we have to be, eh?” Scott nudges Tessa’s shoulder and she smiles awkwardly and nods. He can tell that she’s nervous, so he’s hoping the questions aren’t too invasive. Something tells him Tessa likes to be private about herself and her personal life.

“Okay, number one: never have I ever gone to work with no underwear on.”

Tessa blushes bright red. “Absolutely not, no.”

Scott chuckles, “Yeah, I think once or twice in my younger years.” Tessa looks positively scandalized and Scott laughs harder. “Come on, T, laundry day – you know? It wasn’t so bad, just… cold.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, earning a soft chuckle and her shoulders relax. Scott feels triumphant about that – he’d been trying to make her feel more comfortable.

Eric continues as if they hadn't gone off on their own. “Next: Never have I ever worn a slutty Halloween costume.”

Scott takes that one first, knowing Tessa will want a minute to think over her answer since it's clearly more directed at her. “Ooh… slutty? I don’t know. I was Robin Hood once as a teenager with some pretty dicey green tights. But I think that’s the closest I’ve come to what you could call ‘slutty’.”

He turns to Tessa and she looks ready to answer. “Yeah. I mean, everybody goes as sexy Hermione at least once, right? Or, at least, everybody at my high school.”

“What, like short plaid skirt and-“ Scott trails off, picturing it in his head and getting distracted by the mental image.

“And a few extra buttons undone up top, yeah. I was seventeen, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” She shrugs easily, like it's not a big deal. Objectively it isn't, but Scott can't resist the opportunity to flirt with her a little. 

“Will you show me a picture if I ask nicely?”

"Definitely. Not.” She says in a sing-song voice, wagging her finger at him, and he grins. 

“Okay guys, number three: Never have I ever broken a bone?”

“Yes. Broke my wrist playing street hockey once. Scored the winning goal though, so it was worth it.”

Tessa rolls her eyes beside him before shaking her head. “No, I’ve never broken a bone. Just a few sprains here and there when I did ballet as a kid.”

“Never have I ever fallen on stage?”

"Of course.” Tessa answers immediately. 

“Absolutely” Scott answers at the same time. “What’s your story?” He asks Tessa, knowing full well he’s commandeering the interview and not caring. He’s dying to learn more about her.

“I’m just clumsy sometimes. I hope I’m growing out of it, but when I first started acting I’d trip on stuff _all_ the time.”

“I fell in West Side Story.” Scott tells her, his body turned fully towards hers now.

“You did? At what part?” She asks eagerly, turning to face him as well.

"After singing _Maria_ , I had to climb down the scaffolding as I was saying buenas tardes and I lost my hold and fell about six feet.” Tessa’s hands fly to her mouth in concern, and it’s so sweet. It was nine years ago, but she cares whether or not he was hurt. Scott is counting it as further progress in their relationship. “I was fine. Slight sprained ankle, but I finished the show.”

“Alright guys, last question. Never have I ever been superstitious.”

“Nah, I’m not really into any of that.” Scott says dismissively, expecting to hear the same from Tessa. Serious, practical Tessa. Instead he hears the opposite.      

“Oh, all the time. I knock on wood and I always wear my grandmother’s necklace in a show unless it can’t be hidden in my costume, in which case I’ll put it inside my shoe. And I have a habit of picking up lucky pennies whenever I find them. I must have a huge jar full at home.”

“Wow. I would not have expected that from you, Tess. I’m learning all sorts of interesting things today.” He tries to go for teasing again, but it comes out serious - and he means it. The more he learns the more he wants to know. 

"Stick around, Moir. I’m a walking enigma.” She’s obviously joking, but Scott can’t help but reply, “I just might.”

She fixes her bright green eyes on him then, looking at him quizzically, but he just smiles softly back at her. He’s not sure how long they look at each other, but it must be _too_ long because Eric clears his throat loudly to get their attention.

“That’s all today guys, before we wrap up though – Scott, I know you do a lot of work with Mount Sinai Kravis Children’s Hospital. Will you be doing the charity drive with them again this year?”

Tessa’s head whips around to look at him and Scott runs his hand through his hair awkwardly. “I don’t really like to talk about that in interviews, it’s a private thing. But yes, I will be participating again.”

“That’s great, I understand. On behalf of Broadway.Com, thank you both for coming in this morning. And congratulations on Moulin Rouge – I hope you have a successful run with the show.”

“Thank you.” Tessa says demurely, lightly shaking his hand.

“Thanks, man.” Scott shakes it more enthusiastically before following Tessa out of the room to retrieve their coats and head home. His hand comes up to the small of her back as opens the door for her almost subconsciously, but she doesn’t stiffen or step away – score another win in the Friendship column.

 

"Which way are you headed?" Scott asks once they've stepped outside. 

"That way." She points west. "I'm meeting my friend Kaitlyn for brunch." 

"Ah, well, have a nice day, Virtch." Throwing in a nickname is becoming a habit now, and he hopes she doesn't hit him. Instead of rolling her eyes or glaring though, she looks preoccupied. 

She finally speaks after staring at the building across the street for a long moment. “Hey Scott? Why don’t you like to talk about it? The hospital thing, I mean. It seems like a really great thing that you’re doing.”

“I just… I don’t want it to seem like I’m-“ Scott struggles to explain. 

“Doing it as a publicity stunt?” Tessa finishes for him, looking sympathetic, and Scott is glad that she seems to get it.

“Yeah. It’s not for me, it’s for the kids.”

“I understand.” She looks at him for a  long moment, like she’s sizing him up or reevaluating him. “I think maybe I underestimated you, _Scottie_.” A sly smile spreads across her face, but Scott doesn't mind it so much this morning. 

"I think maybe I underestimated _you_ , Tess." 

She smiles, a bright, warm, genuine grin like he's just paid her the highest compliment. "See you at the read-through, next week." 

"Yeah, see you then." 

Scott watches her walk away for the second time in as many days, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time messing around with creating social media posts for a fic. Let me know what you think. If it's distracting, I'll take it out! :)


	4. Everybody Can, Can

** Chapter 4: Everybody Can, Can **

****

“So… looks like things with the musical are going well?” Jordan says over the phone after their usual catch-up on all things Virtue back home. For all that Tessa likes living in the big city – the shopping, the food, the work – she misses her family desperately and relies on weekly chats with Jordan for all the latest news.

“They are. I’ve been learning a lot with the music director, Justin. He’s really helping me with the songs. And Tam, who’s playing the Duke, is super nice and has been helping me with the character. I’m excited for our first read-through next Monday.”

“Mmhmm. And how are things with Scott? Is he helping you with the character as well?” Jordan sounds like she’s fishing for something, and Tessa becomes immediately wary.

“Not really… we haven’t started officially working together yet. Why?”

"Only that I happened to see a certain interview this morning in which my baby sister looks just as star-struck as she did when she had his picture on her wall.”

“ _Jordan!”_ Tessa practically shouts, aghast, before remembering her roommates and how thin the walls are in her apartment and dropping her voice back down to a normal volume. “I do not look star-struck at Scott Moir. I’m so over that.”

“Uh huh.” Jordan does not sound convinced at all and Tessa sits up straight on her bed, determined to prove it to her.

“It’s true! You’d have to meet him to understand, but he’s cocky and arrogant and insufferable. He teases me endlessly with all these ridiculous nicknames and purposely tries to push my buttons-“

“Sounds like he has a crush on you.” Jordan states matter-of-factly and Tessa is grateful that her sister isn’t in the room to see her blush.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t think I can do this and I think he’s trying to push me out of the role.”

But then Tessa's traitorous brain reminds her of yesterday - learning about his secret charity work, the way he’d been so giving as they answered the questions – not trying to hog the spotlight, but watching and waiting until she’d finished speaking - and didn't he admit to underestimating her? She can feel some of her anger dissipating like mist on a lake at dawn, and she’s not sure if she can get it back now that she's seen this other side of him.

“Sure, Tess. That’s why he looks at you like you hung the moon.” Jordan scoffs and Tessa can hear her eyes rolling in Toronto all the way from her bed in New York.

She's going to ignore the comment, but then it hits her and she asks in confusion, “Hang on. What are you talking about? When have you ever seen him look at me other than in those staged photos?”

“Have you checked Instagram yet this morning?”

“No, I only just got back from yoga. Why?”

“The official Moulin Rouge account posted about your new Broadway.Com interview. You should probably check it out, then you’ll understand.”

Tessa lowers her phone, putting the call on speaker before opening Instagram. And there it is, right at the top of her feed.

 

 

The shot they’d used for the post definitely looks… well, Scott’s not disgusted with her, that’s for sure, and she definitely isn’t glaring at him like normal. They’re looking at each other like they’re totally caught up in what the other is saying – with a hint of a smile playing at Scott’s mouth.

Tessa can’t help but scroll through the comments after she sees the first one asking, “OMG are they dating?” Every comment after that is some variation of the same question, or pointing out the way Scott can’t stop staring at her (and vice versa). She hardly dares to watch the video itself if this is the conversation a single picture has caused.

“Maybe we do look at each other a lot in that interview," She concedes after bring the phone back to her ear, "But it was only because we were paying attention. He does not look like I _hung the moon_. We’re just costars answering questions together.”

“Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but he definitely looks interested, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.” Jordan insists.   

“Yeah, I see that.” Tessa says with a groan. She has no idea how she’ll be able to face Scott in a week if he sees this and reads the comments. “But I swear Jordan, we’re not even friends.”

“Fine, you’re my sister so I believe you. But I want to be on the record as reserving the right to say I told you so if things _do_ happen between you two.”

“They won’t, but your reservation is noted.”

The whole idea is absurd. Her and Scott… Scott having feelings for her. There’s just no way that would ever happen. He drives her crazy, and she’s certain he must feel the same way about her. All these people who think they’re picking up on some body language or other cues are just ridiculous and Tessa resolves to ignore them.  

She has a whole week in front of her that she’s determined to use for rest and relaxation because come Monday, her life will be nothing but red windmills and thwarted love until the middle of August.

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa enters the rehearsal room fifteen minutes early feeling jittery and anxious. Despite her resolve _not_ to think about what people are saying about her and Scott online, the closer today came the more she worried about it. She can’t help but wonder what Scott will say – if anything – when she sees him this morning.

On top of that, this is her first time meeting the entire cast and she wants to make a good impression. Most of the principle cast members did the workshop with Karen last year, and she knows they’ll all be wondering how Tessa measures up to one of Broadway’s greatest stars. She’s come laden with coffee and donuts for everybody as a show of good will, and it seems to be the perfect ice-breaker. Everyone who enters jumps on the goodies with delight, shaking her hand and thanking her and welcoming her to the show. Tessa feels the knot in her stomach loosen at how nice everyone is.  

“We haven’t met yet. I’m Holly.” A stunning woman with light-brown skin and long blonde ringlets and the most striking blue eyes she’s ever seen shakes her hand. “Thanks for the coffee, you’re a gem! Welcome to the show!”

“Thank you. I’m honored to be a part of it.” Tessa smiles back at her.

“Bribery? I never would have guessed you had it in you.” An English accent says from over her shoulder, and Tessa spins around to find Tam smirking at her.

“It’s not bribery, it’s a _gift_.” Tessa corrects him with a smile. They’d only rehearsed a few times together, but she already likes the guy. He’s open and friendly and has been nothing but supportive and encouraging from the moment they met.  

“A gift with the expectation that you’ll get something out of it. _Bribery_.” He argues back with smirk.

“You’re so ridiculous, Tam.” Holly says with an affectionate eye-roll, clearly used to his teasing.  

“I’m merely pointing out the facts, Holly. What do you want from me if I take one?” He asks Tessa with a playful wink.

“Nothing.” She says brightly in return. “I’m going to give _you_ something instead.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.”

“Your book back. You were right, I really enjoyed it.” She hands him _A Gentleman in Moscow_ out of her purse, chuckling a little at his disappointed expression. He’d lent it to her the week before after one of their rehearsals together, convinced that she would like it, and he’d been right. It's definitely become one of her favorites. 

“Tam, nice to see you again. How have you been?” Scott swoops in out of nowhere. Tessa hadn’t even seen him come in the room, but now he’s standing close by her side like he’s been there all along. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  

“I’ve been well, thank you, have you met our new star?” Tam reaches for her hand and places a smacking kiss on the back of it, eliciting a giggle from Tessa. The muscle in Scott’s jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth, before relaxing into a friendly smile.

“Yep. We met in the lobby a few weeks ago. She doesn’t like me very much.” He whispers the last bit like he’s pretending to keep it a secret from her. It’s not _strictly_ untrue, but something about the look in his eyes makes her feel bad.

“You spilled coffee all over me! It wasn’t exactly a good first impression. You’ve been better with the hot beverages since then.”

Tam makes a noise of understanding, “After all, what can a first impression tell us about someone we’ve just met for a minute in the lobby of a hotel? For that matter, what can a first impression tell us about anyone? Why, no more than a chord can tell us about Beethoven, or a brushstroke about Botticelli. By their very nature, human beings are so capricious, so complex, so delightfully contradictory, that they deserve not only our consideration, but our reconsideration—and our unwavering determination to withhold our opinion until we have engaged with them in every possible setting at every possible hour.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asks, looking at Tam like he just spouted a bunch of gibberish.

“He was quoting a book.” Tessa explains, recognizing the passage from the very book she’d just given back to him. “I’m impressed you can remember all that.”

“We’re actors, my dear, it’s our job to memorize. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time for us to take our seats.”

They have little name plaques in front of each chair. Bill Damashke and Alex sit at the front, with Scott next to Alex, Tessa next to Scott, Danny next to Tessa, and then Tam on his other side. The rest of the ensemble is scattered around the large square table in a random order.

Tessa takes her seat primly, carefully straightening the paper with her name on it and pulling out a pen to take notes. 

"Nervous?" Scott leans over and whispers close in her ear, sending shivers up her spine. 

"A little." She admits. He reaches his arm around her and rubs the spot where her neck meets her shoulder in gentle little circles. 

"You'll be fine. It's just the read-through. You  _can_ read, right?" 

The question, accompanied by his touch and the laughter in his eyes, does the trick and her nerves dissipate. "Yes, I can read." 

He removes his hand from her body, but leaves it on the back of her chair as they take turns introducing themselves, and Tessa tries her best to pay attention and take mental snapshots of each person and their names instead of letting herself be distracted by the man next to her. She wants to memorize everyone as quickly as possible so that she can address them by their correct names during rehearsal.

“Alright everybody. Thank you for being here today. We’re very excited to get started and officially begin rehearsal for Broadway’s Moulin Rouge!” A round of applause breaks out at Alex’s introduction, and the excitement in the air is palpable. Everyone in the room feels committed to this play one hundred percent and it makes Tessa feel even more thrilled to be a part of it than before.

Alex plays the part of narrator and he starts off with setting the scene. “The play will open with a few of the dancers walking around slowly on stage as the audience takes their seats. Two of you ladies will come together in the front of the stage and swallow swords – we want to set the atmosphere for the show right from the start. This is a cabaret meant to dazzle the senses.”

Tessa can’t help raising her eyebrows at that – wondering if the girls in the ensemble know they’re going to have to learn how to perform something that dangerous. Or maybe they’ll use collapsible swords… that would make more sense. She hopes that's what they're doing, instead of risking skewering themselves in front of a captive audience. 

“The lights go down, the stage goes dark, and then the back of the stage will light up revealing the silhouettes of our four diamond dogs – Robyn, Holly, Jacqueline, and Jeigh. They’ll open by singing Lady Marmalade.”

Zidler is the first person with a speaking role, so Danny picks it up from there. “Yes it’s me! Your good for nothing Harold Zidler! Welcome you gorgeous collection of reprobates and rascals, artists and sodomites. Welcome to the Moulin Rouge!”

“From Zidler we move into Because You Can Can Can.” Alex continues and Tessa gets the distinct feeling that the entire first fifteen minutes of the musical will be nonstop dancing, singing, and dazzling wonderment.

“Now, enter the Duke of Monroth.”  

Tam begins speaking in his American accent, which he’ll adopt for the role. “The best things in life are free, but - I get whatever I want.”

There’s some conversation back and forth between the Duke and Zidler, more narration, and then it’s Scott’s turn.

“But will this Satine even agree to meet me?” Technically at a read-through the point isn’t to be in character, just to get an idea of the story and everyone’s lines, but Scott infuses his simple sentence with just enough hint of the charming, awkward character Christian is at the beginning of the play that it makes Tessa excited to see how he’ll be once they’re in the polishing stage of rehearsal and actually in character. 

“And now it’s time to meet our star. The apogee of your desires. Ladies and gentlemen, bohemians and artists - may I present to you our sparkling diamond. The unique, the indominable, the one and only-“ Danny stops on the cliffhanger and Alex picks it up from there.

“Here is where the action on the stage will stop and the focus will be on Christian. He’s going to address the audience and begin telling his story.”

Scott begins speaking again, and Tessa watches him closely just like she did during their interview. “Wait! Not yet. I’m not ready to see her… This is a story about love. The woman I loved is dead now. She died in my arms. It’s so hard for me to talk about, even now. This is a story about a woman named Satine. I had arrived in Paris that very day, only hours before, I’d come to escape my suffocating life in America. To become a bohemian, an artist. To fall in love –“

It’s a little bit funny the way Tessa forgets that this is the Scott she knows and gets caught up in watching  _The_   _Scott Moir_ doing what he does best.

Jordan had given her a hard time that morning, but it’s true – Tessa _had_ had a picture of him on her wall for a long time, had bought every cast album he’d been on, followed his career. He’d been an inspiration to her – a country boy from the town next to hers making it big on Broadway. She’s struck, in this moment, by how lucky she feels to get to work with him – even if he does drive her crazy.

The rest of the read-through goes well and everyone chats happily as they collect their things once it’s over. They’ll all be back here again tomorrow bright and early to begin blocking, but for now they get the rest of the afternoon off to do as they please.

“Tess, a few of us are going to 54 Below tonight to celebrate the start of rehearsals, you in?” Tam asks with a friendly, welcoming smile. “You can come too, Moir, if you want.”

Scott stars to say “N-“ just as Tessa says, “Absolutely, I’ll be there.” And then hastily finishes with, “-ot gonna miss it! See you tonight.”

Tessa’s pretty sure that both she and Tam are giving him the same weird look, but Scott just shrugs like that’s what he was going to say all along. She’s certain though that he was going to say no until he heard her saying yes, which is weird. She’s not sure why her going would have any bearing on his decision.  

“Scott, Tessa, can I talk to you for a moment?” Bill asks, breaking apart their little awkward bubble. “You may have seen the overwhelming response we got to your Broadway.Com interview last week.”

Tessa flinches. In the flurry of activity that day and intense focus she'd had on the read-through, she’d completely forgotten about that whole fiasco.

“Yeah, I saw it.” Scott replies and Tessa has to stifle a groan. There goes the hope that he hadn’t seen the post out the window. Although maybe there’s still a chance he didn’t read any of the comments.

“I’m sure you saw the comments then about the two of you." Scott nods and Tessa wants to bury her head under a pillow. This whole situation is so embarrassing. Why do people have to read into everything? "The producers and I have been discussing it, and we want to encourage those rumors.”

“What?!” Scott nearly shouts in alarm.

"You want us to what, pretend we’re dating?” Tessa asks, and she can feel Scott go stiff beside her. Clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

“No, no.” Bill says and Scott relaxes somewhat, and it stings a little – not that Tessa wanted to fake-date him either, but does he have to be _so_ disgusted by the idea? “Just don’t do anything to discourage the idea. You know, no outright denials, you guys aren’t dating anyone right?” They both shake their heads no. “Great. So yes, just keep it simple and let people speculate. It’s the best free publicity we could have asked for. Can you both do that?”

“I guess.” Tessa agrees quietly. She’s never been very comfortable sharing the details of her private life, but she’s also never been very good at hiding it either. Physically she’s got a pretty good poker face, but as Jordan will attest to, her eyes give everything away.

“Alright.” Scott sounds even more reluctant than she does, and Tessa assumes he must be worried that it will mess with his ability to pick up women if they think he’s dating his costar.

“Excellent. Enjoy the next couple of months and I’ll see you both in Boston for the dress rehearsals.” Bill claps Scott on the shoulder before walking away, leaving them on their own.

Tessa struggles to find something to say. Scott just stands there, not speaking, and it’s making her nervous. “Well, that was unexpected.” Is what she finally comes up with and it seems to do the trick.

He snaps out of his thoughts with a quick intake of breath. “It makes sense. I may not know much about social media, but I do know the power it can have when fans get talking. Any publicity is good publicity, right?”

“Absolutely.” Tessa pastes a smile across her face. “I’ll see you later at the restaurant.”

"Sure, see you there."

 

* * *

 

 

"So there I am, running down The Mall with my trousers off, Buckingham Palace in the distance, when I get pulled over by a very angry looking officer with the most ridiculous mustache I've ever seen." 

Everyone busts up laughing as Tam tells story after story, each one more ridiculous than the last. They were all squished in around the table at one of the brown leather booths, sharing appetizers and sipping on their drinks of choice. Tessa had gone with a strawberry daiquiri tonight - wanting something a little sweet.

There were seven of them there in that crowded booth, including Tam and Tessa, and Scott was seated next to her drinking a simple lager, his arm resting behind her again. The limited space meant she was practically tucked into his side, and she was trying not to make it weird. 

Although she couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, how warm and solid he felt beside her, and the way he would lean into her whenever he had something to say to someone across the table. It was all messing with her head. She thought she'd successfully convinced herself that she was over her crush on him, but right here in this moment all her reasons for not liking him had flown out of her head. 

They enjoy the live music and the good food, and Tessa's already a few drinks in when Holly shouts, "We should do karaoke!" 

"Oh no. No, no, no, definitely not." Tessa protests. Her head feels heavy from the alcohol and she's in that pleasant middle state between feeling good and feeling sleepy, but there's no way she's doing karaoke. 

"Boooo! You don't have a choice. We're going." Tam slurs and waves the waiter down for the check.

"There's a place just around the corner from here." Robyn supplies and Tessa groans, burying her face into Scott's side. His arm drops to her shoulder and he rubs lightly up and down in a comforting motion - making goosebumps rise across her skin. 

"You don't have to go if you don't want to." Scott whispers kindly, but Tessa shakes her head. 

"No, it's fine. I can watch everyone else sing." 

 

The thing that Tessa quickly learns being at a Karaoke bar with Broadway singers, is that this is _more_ than just karaoke. This is serious business. They end up at DUET 53 in varying states of sobriety that immediately becomes even more questionable after Ricky orders two rounds of shots for everybody. 

"Okay, rules!" Holly calls out after everyone has fallen into their seats. "We takes turns, no picking songs from shows you've been in, and when you're done you have to take a shot." She points a wavy finger at Tessa, "And you, miss Satine, have to take two shots if you skip your turn." 

Holly starts them off with an amazing rendition of _So What_ by Pink!, followed by Tam singing a rather melodramatic version of Maroon 5's  _She Will Be Loved_. Scott does an unexpected, yet somehow successful, performance of _Gangster's Paradise_ that leaves jaws on the floor. Tessa laughs and applauds each and every one of them until Robyn is pushing her out of her seat and they're all shouting at her to sing! sing! sing!

She glances at Scott and he seems to wordlessly ask, "Are you sure?" Nodding, she scrolls through the iPad until she finds the song she wants. The familiar chords and synth that are so characteristic of Hall & Oates start playing over the speakers, and Tessa takes a deep breath and closes her eyes while she waits for her cue. 

_When you find yourself alone_   
_And when going out is coming home_   
_You can count on the kid_   
_'Cause there's nobody waiting around_

 

_Oh, oh, if you're not an easy mark_   
_It's a shot in the dark that hits the heart_   
_And I know, I know when it's coming_   
_I thought so anyway_

 

_Somethings stay the same_   
_And some are due for a change_   
_I thought I had them all nailed down_

 

_But you turned it around, boy_   
_You did it, you did it_   
_You did it, you did it_   
_You did it in a minute_   
_You did it_

She had picked  _Did it in a Minute_ because it's one of her favorite songs by one of her favorite bands, but as she starts singing she makes the mistake of looking at Scott - who's watching her with rapt attention - and then suddenly becomes very aware of the lyrics.

_Everybody always laughs at love_   
_But what they want is to be proven wrong_   
_Then you came along_

She stumbles a little bit over the words and refuses to look at him - hoping that he's not reading too much into it. All the liquor in her head is making it hard for her to get a read on him, but he has this little smile on his lips that's making her cheeks flush and her heart beat a little faster. She wants to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. Why oh why didn't she pick something else?

"Not bad, kiddo." He says quietly, leaning in close again like he'd been doing all night once she's sat back down - red-faced and a little sweaty from the dancing she'd done while she sang. Tessa pats his thigh clumsily in response, in probably not an entirely appropriate way. 

"Thanks, Scottie." 

"Don't call me that. Only my mom calls me that." He complains with a loud groan, reaching down to grab her wandering hand and place it safely back in her own lap. Huh, she hadn't realized she was still touching him. 

"Awwww. Alright, fine. I'll have to come up with something else to call you, _kiddo_." 

He laughs at her, unruffled by her attempt at using the same nickname he'd used on her. "I'm going to the bathroom. Try not to fall over before I get back." He says it very seriously and Tessa wonders how on earth he's not as drunk as the rest of them. 

"Aye aye, Captain." She salutes and he chuckles as he walks away. 

"He's got such a great ass." Holly leans over to watch him walk across the room. "I mean, I'm totally into women, but I can appreciate a nice ass when I see one, you know?" 

"Um...sure." Tessa replies. The topic feels a little crude, since Scott's a coworker. But now that Holly's pointed it out, she can't seem to take her eyes off it as he waits in line for the men's room. It  _is_ pretty good. 

"That girl thinks so too." Holly tilts her head to gesture at the woman who's just slid off her barstool and sauntered up to Scott. 

"Will he leave with her?" Tessa asks, feeling a little sad and disappointed at the prospect (which she's blaming entirely on the alcohol). 

"Scott?" Holly asks in surprise, "I highly doubt it. I've never seen him leave with someone." 

"What? Never?" Tessa asks in surprise. In his younger days he'd had quite a reputation around New York City for being  _popular_ with the ladies. The whispers seemed to follow her wherever she went - girls talking about meeting him and how great he was in bed. It had been disappointing at first, but she'd just assimilated it into the lexicon of things she knew about him and moved on. After-all, he was young and attractive, who was she to judge? 

"No. Girls are always giving him their numbers and flirting, but he just turns them down politely. Why? Are you interested?" Holly fixes her with a curious stare, her blue eyes looking right into Tessa's soul, and she can feel her cheeks heating up under the intense gaze. 

"No. No way. I'd just heard rumors." 

"Well, you can't believe everything you hear. Not in this town." 

Doesn't she know it. One interview and suddenly her (non-existent) dating life is under the spotlight. Tessa watches out of the corner of her eye as Scott says something politely to the woman, takes a selfie with her, and then heads into the men's room while the woman returns to her seat. Apparently Holly was right, and for some reason that Tessa refuses to inspect too closely, that makes her happy. 

"It's late and we've got an early start tomorrow, so I'm gonna head home." Scott says after he gets back, not even bothering to sit back down. "Do you need help getting home?" 

Normally, Tessa would be offended at the assumption. But her head is swimming and she really just wants to go to bed and he looks so good, standing there with his offer, that she gives in. "That would be great, thank you." 

They bid farewell to the rest of the group and Scott whistles for a cab, insisting that since they live close by each other (she's not sure that they really do, but can't think clearly enough right now to question him) so paying for a taxi is worth it - his treat. 

After a few seconds of fighting it, she lets her head fall to his shoulder in the backseat of the car - watching the lights flash by as they drive and wondering idly if she's going to be sick in the morning. 

 

"Tess.  _Tess_." 

Vaguely she can hear a voice calling her name from somewhere nearby, but she's too comfortable and sleep is too enticing for her to respond. 

"Tessa!" A hand shakes her shoulder gently, and Tessa opens her eyes to find that they've arrived at her apartment. "We're here." 

"Oh." She lifts her head and comes face to face with Scott. His mouth suddenly just inches from her own. In the dim light of the middle of the night his eyes are dark like onyx and Tessa feels herself getting lost in their depth.

"Tess?" He whispers, his eyes moving back and forth between her own. She wonders what he sees in them. 

"Do you maybe want to come up?" The sentence is out of her mouth before she can stop it and it just hangs there. As the seconds tick by she's struck by the sudden image of watching Saturday morning cartoons as a kid - Wile E Coyote running off of a cliff and hanging in mid-air before plummeting to the earth below. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." Scott finally says, leaning away from her, and her body floods with shame and embarrassment.  _Of course_ he doesn't want to come up. She doesn't know what she was thinking. 

"Right, no. Of course. Have a good night, Scott." 

She can hear him calling her name, but she scrambles out of the taxi and up to the door of her building without turning around. If she thought the comments on their interview would make things awkward, this was a million times worse. 

With any luck she'll go to sleep tonight and the alcohol will make her forget it all by morning.  

 

 


	5. You Won't Fool (The Children of the Revolution)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I seriously love you guys so much. Thank you for being so wonderful and kind!
> 
> One step forward, two steps back... then another step forward?

** Chapter 5: You Won't Fool (The Children of the Revolution) **

****

There are four things that Scott truly regrets in his life: stealing that golf cart when he was seventeen, drunk dialing his hot high school math teacher, forgetting his mom’s sixtieth birthday, and saying no to Tessa Virtue when she had invited him into her apartment.

Not because he would have had sex with her, he definitely wouldn’t have (however tempting the prospect was). She had clearly been drunk and Scott isn’t that kind of guy. But because the look of rejection and embarrassment on her face is surely going to haunt him for the rest of his life. That, and the fact that they are three weeks into rehearsals and Tessa has barely spoken one word to him outside of their scripted lines.

So much for friendship.

He should have explained himself better. Made it clear that it wasn’t _her_ he was turning down, it was just the wrong moment. And they work together – which adds a whole other layer of mess to the situation. But she had run away and he’d let her go – watching from the back of the cab like an idiot while the driver shook his head and muttered something like, “Rookie mistake.”

Any hope that he’d had that she was too drunk to remember the interaction had been blown to bits the moment she walked into the rehearsal room that next morning with smiles and laughter for everyone but him.

All of his attempts to speak to her in the following weeks had been masterfully thwarted. It was like she became a ninja as soon as her scene or musical number was over. One second she was there and Scott was walking towards her, the next she was gone – busy talking to someone else or working on another piece of choreography or just plain left the building.

 

They’re just over a week into the polishing stage of the play now, which is Scott’s favorite part of rehearsals. He loves exploring the subtleties of the story. Refining the movements and gestures of his character and perfecting all his lines. This is when he really gets to sink his teeth into a new character and peel back the layers until he can make it his own.

He just wishes he didn’t keep getting distracted by his costar.

Tessa stands in the middle of the rehearsal room with Danny working on a scene between Satine and Zidler. Scott has to enter in a minute, but for the moment he lets himself just watch. Enjoys the way the two of them work together to figure out just the right dynamic between the showrunner and his ingénue.

She tries different intonations until she finds the perfect balance between respectful and independent – the confident tilt in her chin giving away that she's landed on the right choice. Tessa may not currently be speaking to him, but that doesn’t mean Scott isn’t still paying attention. Learning what he can about her from a distance.

The scene ends and Danny steps aside while Alex gives the next set of instructions. “Alright, Scott, now Christian knocks on Satine’s door. Nervous, but eager to impress. Satine is under the impression that he's the Duke, and a hilariously awkward interaction ensues.”

Scott steps forward, knocking on air and watching as Tessa walks towards him - swaying her hips a bit more than necessary. She’s wearing a tight, sleeveless black top with a zipper running all the way down the front and her standard black leggings, and Scott can see all the ways her muscles move. It's purely artistic when she's dancing, but when she's trying to seduce him (not him, _Christian_ ) it's an entirely different story. It makes getting into character as the love-struck Christian a little _too_ easy.

“You’re not what I expected.” Tessa says in a sultry voice, dripping with honey, and the sound goes straight to his groin. _Damn it, Scott, you’re a professional!_

“Surprise! Can I buy you a drink? Oh, wait, I don’t have any money.” Comes his flustered reply right on cue accompanied by a sheepish smile.  

“I’ve heard that about your kind. That you don’t carry any money on you. Come in. The room is subtle, I know, but it amuses me.”

Scott pretends to step into the bedroom. On stage the set will be an opulent array of reds and pinks and gold befitting a courtesan, but here in the rehearsal room all he’s got to work with is a cement floor, a few necessary chairs, and a plain grey chaise lounge that serves as Satine’s bed. “I’ve never been inside an elephant.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Champagne, your grace? Sit, sit.”

“I prefer to do it standing, if you don’t mind.” Logically Scott knows this is supposed to be a funny part of the play, and it is, but seeing Tessa react to the double entendre _does things_ to him that he’s trying very hard (pun not intended) to ignore.

“Of course.” She replies after hesitating for a moment.

“You don’t have to – stand, I mean. I want you to be comfortable. Sometimes it’s quite long.” Tessa’s eyes go as round as saucers and a few of the ensemble members chuckle in the back from where they’re watching. “I must admit, this is quite a new experience for me. We don’t really do things like this in Ohio.”

Tessa flips her ponytail and strikes a more seductive pose on the chaise as Satine tries to get refocused on her task at hand after being caught off guard by Christian’s speech. “Oh, that’s a shame.”

“Now, just to warn you, it’s very modern what I do and it may feel a bit strange at first,” Tessa sits up straight, her jaw dropping. “But if you’re really open I think you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s more laughter from the cast and Scott’s grateful that he’s supposed to be playing the part of a bumbling awkward farm-boy because that’s exactly how he feels right now. He knows he woke up this morning a thirty year old man, but the way his stomach flutters with butterflies and his ears turn red he’s pretty sure he’s sixteen again and trying to impress a pretty girl. “I’m a bit nervous.”

It’s his line, but it’s also one hundred percent true. This would be so much easier if things between them weren’t rivaling the Cold War right now. He's never had to pretend to be in love with someone that he isn't friends with off-stage. Makes a point, in fact, of striking up a friendship with all the cast members in any production he does. So this  _disagreement_ with Tessa is the equivalent of coming to work with his shoelaces tied together: utterly discombobulating and making him trip and stumble where things should be easy and smooth. He misses their easy push and pull from when they did _Elephant Love Medley_ at her audition. Or the easy companionship that night at the bar before it all went wrong. He liked the feeling of having her tucked into his side, and even though he only got to enjoy it once, he misses it.

“What!?” Tessa practically shouts in surprise, shooting out of her chair and bringing Scott back to the present. _Acting. Right_. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you. Make you feel _good_.” She fixes her green eyes on him as she walks towards him, coming up right in close like Alex directed her to do – running her hands down his chest and scratching lightly at his waist. Scott’s not proud of the way his dick twitches in his pants, but he can’t help it. She really is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Scott’s voice comes out stuttered as he says his next lines. “My whole future is riding on this, and my friends are counting on me.” Tessa- _Satine_ -makes a little squeak in surprise. “Honestly, it’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside-“

“Great guys, now this is where Christian will sing _Your Song_ – making Satine fall a little bit in love with him.” Alex cuts in, and it’s like a bucket of ice is dumped on them. Tessa drops her hands and bounces away, any sign of her character gone as she watches their director closely. It’s impressive, really, how quickly she can snap in and out of her part.

 

They practice the song and Scott finds that so much easier. Music and lyrics and melody and dancing – that’s much more distracting than running lines and it takes more of his focus for him to get into character and hit the right notes. Leaving less freedom for his brain to wander to how great Tessa's voice sounds or how good she looks doing the choreography. 

If he's like this now, when she's in casual athletic wear, he's not sure how he's going to survive being on stage opposite her when she's wearing nothing but a corset, underwear, garter belt, and stockings. 

They move straight from _Your Song_ into _The Pitch_ which is honestly a blast and one of his favorite parts of the musical. It’s so over the top and high speed - full of intricate lyrics and high physicality - and the five of them: Danny, Tessa, Ricky, Sahr, and himself always end up laughing by the end of it.     

“I’ll be back shortly my dear. You have _quite_ conquered me.” Tam – _The Duke_ – says, caressing Tessa’s bare arm in one long motion from top to bottom before kissing the back of her hand. Scott watches with narrowed eyes.

There’s a scene between Zidler and Satine, then Zidler and the Duke. The latter of which leaves Scott standing next to Tessa while they watch. She stands with her back ramrod straight as she keeps her eyes intensely focused on the scene in front of them. He shuffles quietly to her side, trying not to make a sound and bring down the wrath of Alex.

“Tess, we should talk.” He whispers quietly in her ear and she flinches.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Her lips barely move and her voice is barely discernable, but Scott still manages to hear her anyway.

“About that night.” Standing this close to her, he can see the color rising from her chest up her neck and ears and flooding her face – highlighting her freckles.

“I think you said enough.”

“You’d had a lot to drink and it wouldn’t be a good idea, since we’re working together.” He tries to sound sympathetic, make her understand that it has nothing to do with her personally, but she still resolutely avoids looking at him.

“I get it.” She mutters through gritted teeth and Scott’s at a loss for what to do here.

“Not that I-“

She spins around to face him with a hard look in her eyes. “I said I understand, Scott.”

The room comes to a stop as everyone turns to look at them and Tessa’s eyes go wide in mortification.

“Is there a scene the two of you are working on that you’d like to share?” Alex says, pursing his lips together and tilting his head, waiting for an explanation – the irritation radiating off him in waves.

“No, sorry, Alex.” Scott lets Tessa step away from him again, and the distance feels much further than the five or six feet it actually is.

“Well, if it’s alright with you then we’ll have Tessa rejoin Tam for the scene between Satine and the Duke in the elephant.”

Scott watches as Tam pretends to enter the room like he did moments ago, although Tam does it with the style of a snake – sly and conniving. Slithering into Satine’s bedchamber with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and that he'll be successful in getting it. _“Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste…”_

The song had been one of his favorites by the Rolling Stones up until this moment. He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to hear it again without picturing Tam reaching out and taking Tessa forcefully by the hip and pulling her in close. Running his nose up the side of her neck before they transition into their duet of _You Can’t Always Get What you Want_.

Fuck if Scott doesn’t relate to that right now.

“My dear Duke, you’re asking for a lot.” Tessa says as she toys with the collar of Tam’s shirt. He grabs her by the elbows and pulls her in close, until their mouths are almost touching.

“I’m asking for everything.”

The song ends with Tessa laying down on the chaise lounge and Tam climbing over her. On stage the lights will cut out at this part – leaving the implication clear to the audience – but here in the fluorescent lights of the rehearsal room all that happens is Alex calls cut and announces a ten minute break and Scott feels a flood of relief that the scene is over.  

Tam stays where he is though, hovering over Tessa, whispering something in her ear that makes her cry out in a peel of laughter.

If things don’t change, this is going to be a _long_ summer.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mom I am a fully grown adult. I can buy my own clothes.” Scott stares at the open box UPS just delivered on his doorstep. When he’d first seen it, and realized it was from his mother, he’d been excited hoping that it was some of her world-famous (alright, maybe Moir famous, but his family’s so big that practically counts) maple shortbread cookies. Instead, much to his mortification, he’d found a pile of shirts and a couple packages of underwear.

“I know Scottie, but I was at the store and I saw those things and I thought it might be nice, just in case you forget to do laundry.”

“I’m not fifteen. I do actually own a washing machine. Do you still buy stuff for Danny and Charlie?” He asks accusingly, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not, but they’re married.” Scott mouths the words as she says them through the phone. His mother never fails to remind him of that at least once in their phone calls. She’s convinced that no matter how successful his career is, his life won’t be complete until he finds a good woman to share it with. “Just say thank you, Scottie.” She chastises him and Scott muffles a groan into his hand before repeating the two words back to her.

He wishes he had stronger grounds to stand on, but the last time she had visited him in New York he'd been twenty-five and living in a shared apartment with a bunch of slobs. Now he's got his own place, his own furniture, and he keeps it relatively clean for a bachelor, but he knows his mom has never been able to shake off the horror of what she'd seen five years ago.

“Now, tell me how Tessa is. Kate was telling me that she-“

“Hold on. Who’s Kate?” Scott cuts in. He’d thought he knew most of his mom’s bingo friends.

“Tessa’s mother, of course.”

Scott nearly chokes on his own spit – coughing so hard that it feels like he might eject a lung.

“Scottie! Are you alright? Are you choking?”

“M’fine.” Scott manages to wheeze out, trying to reassure her even as his lungs continue to misbehave. It takes a minute, but he’s finally able to settle down and croak out, “How do you know Tessa’s mother?”

His mom makes a clucking, impatient noise. “When you told me her name I knew it sounded familiar, so I did some digging and realized I knew her mother years ago when she used to bring her kids around to the rink to learn how to skate. She’d mentioned back then having a daughter who was a ballerina. That must have been Tessa.”

Scott’s still not sure how this relates to the current year, or how Alma and Kate became BFFs, so he prompts her to go on.

“I found her number in our old records and gave it a call and low and behold it still worked! I explained who I was and she understood right away and we had a nice long chat. Now we meet for brunch twice a week. She’s lovely.”

If Scott could sink into his couch cushions and live the rest of his life out as cotton stuffing, he’s pretty sure that he would. Leave it to his mother Nancy Drew to go sleuthing and come up with a new best friend. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to her growing up and learned to master her ways, he wouldn’t be in this mess with Tessa now.

 

* * *

 

 

 A week later and they've moved into the second act. Scott's been playing around with just  _how_ crazy he's going to get with Christian. He and Alex have almost settled on the idea of him shedding a quiet tear towards the beginning of the act, and moving onto a full melt-down after the absinthe scene when he sings Roxanne and goes to confront the Duke. 

Currently he and Tessa are working on the scene where she comes to break up with him, and instead they reaffirm their love. They sing _Come What May_ and then it’s Scott’s turn to move her backwards towards the chaise. Slowly, with a hand low on her waist and the other cradling her face, until he’s lowering her down onto the flat surface and leaning over her. They’d be kissing now, if they were on stage, but in these early rehearsals it’s not necessary. Even so, his eyes drop to her lips and he wonders what it will feel like.

It’s awkward though, instead of romantic. He’s supposed to be making love to her, but Tessa’s gone stiff as a board under his touch and Scott knows it’s obvious.

“Cut!” Alex yells and Scott quickly pulls away so that she can sit up. “No, no, no. You two” He points angrily at the both of them, “Come with me.”

The next thing Scott knows is that he’s being shoved into a supply closet by his director, followed closely by his costar.

“This tension between you is all wrong and it’s messing with the play. Romantic tension is good,  _real_ tension is bad and the audience will pick up on it. Figure it out and don’t come out until you do.”

The door slams and they’re bathed in darkness. The only light source comes from the thin crack under the door – lighting up the soles of their shoes and nothing else.

“Scott…” Tessa’s hands land on his chest and her voice wavers. “Can you _please_ find the light switch.” He can hear her breathing picking up speed and he shoots out a hand to the wall, dragging it along the rough cement surface, but coming up empty.

“I can’t find it.” He says apologetically, and Tessa’s hands fist in his shirt in response.

“I think it’s one of those cord ones. Hanging from the ceiling.” Tessa suggests with a shaky voice. 

He feels like an idiot, waving his hand around in the air, but finally he finds the chain and gives it a sharp tug.

The uncovered lightbulb flickers to life, emitting a dull, yellow color. Clearly it hasn’t been changed recently and is on its last legs. 

Tessa looks around the tiny closet, taking in the rows of cleaning supplies, and Scott enjoys the way her hands continue to grip at his shirt. He can tell that she's upset being in here, and he wishes that he could reach out and hold her.

Finally she turns to him and, as if she’s been shocked, lifts her hands off him with a jump. “Sorry! I didn’t realize… sorry.”

“It’s okay, T.” Scott says gently.

“I just don’t like dark, enclosed spaces.”

“Claustrophobic?”

“No!” At his skeptical look she caves quickly and admits, “Yes, maybe a little.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I have masklophobia?” He asks with a wry smile and Tessa looks up at him like he's just spoken complete gibberish. 

“What on earth is that?”

“I’m afraid of mascots.” He shrugs nonchalantly, like it's not a big deal (even though it absolutely is).  

“You’re making that up. Who’s afraid of people in costumes?” There's a hint of laughter in her voice, and it soothes something inside Scott. He likes helping her. Making her happy.

“Swear to God, hand on my heart. I am deathly afraid. Can’t stand to be near them.”

She squints at him like she’s trying to discern if he’s telling the truth, and he just looks back at her openly, until finally she surprises him by giggling.

“That’s ridiculous. But yes, I do feel better.”

“So are we going to talk?” Scott asks point-blank. Better to address the issue head on. “The sooner we do, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Or we could just not talk, and pretend like everything’s fine.” Tessa suggests, leaning back against the shelf behind her and folding her arms over her chest.

He lets out an exasperated huff of air. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t want to pretend. I’d rather fix the problem so that we can move on. What happened that night was a misunderstanding.”

“So you’ve said.”

Her face is closed off again, but Scott plows forward full steam ahead. No point in stopping now that he's started. “Tess, you can’t expect me to feel bad for saying no when you’d been drinking. I was trying _not_ to be the bad guy.”

Her hands grip her biceps tightly where they're resting and she refuses to look him in the eye, instead muttering, “I know” like a petulant child.

“I’m sorry that I made you feel embarrassed.” She still isn’t looking at him so he reaches out to touch her elbow. Just the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to make her look up at him. She watches him for a long time with those emerald eyes, the crappy light casting weird shadows across her face and making it hard to read.     

Finally she must decide she sees something honest in his expression, because she relaxes and says, “I forgive you. I’m sorry for getting angry and overreacting.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize for how you feel, just talk to me about it instead of shutting me out, okay?” He says, gently stroking her arm for one fleeting, glorious moment. 

She nods and smiles at him, the first smile she’s graced him with in weeks, and Scott gives her his best grin in return. “On that note though, I should probably tell you now that my mom has befriended your mom.”

“ _What?_ How did that happen?” Tessa asks with a half-laugh, and Scott’s relieved that she seems surprised and curious, rather than getting angry and accusing his family of being stalkers.

“I guess she used to know your mom a long time ago when she taught your siblings how to skate.”

“Wow. What a small world.” Tessa shakes her head and lets out another small laugh.

“So can we be friends now?” Scott asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I think I can manage that.” Tessa says, that teasing lilt back in her voice telling Scott that they’re back to normal. Or, at least, on the road to normal. And this time he's determined not to mess it up again. 

 


	6. Why Live Life from Dream to Dream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The course of true love never did run smooth.

** Chapter 6: Why Live Life from Dream to Dream? **

****

“Think back. Try and remember your first, real love. Everything from here on will make more sense if you remember that feeling. That _madness_. After that first night, Satine and I would steal away whenever we could. Hiding our affair from the Duke. Somehow it was even more romantic for being secret. We were rehearsing our new show. Toulouse was furiously revising his script, and new songs were pouring out of me. All inspired by Satine. Two months had passed, and it turns out, ours wasn’t the only backstage romance…”

Scott finishes his lines, the opening of Act 2, before sauntering out of the way and coming to stand by her so that Ricky and Robyn can perform their song and dance together as the Argentinian and Nini.

Tessa can't help but let her mind wander to the man standing next to her while the others rehearse. She has never been more confused by someone in her life. He’d turned down her drunken invitation (which she’s actually grateful for, in hindsight, despite the mortification) and insisted that nothing like that could happen between them because they’re coworkers, and yet here he is – hand resting lightly on her back, heat soaking through the mesh fabric of her shirt, as he whispers a joke in her ear about the scene being performed in front of them.

In the days since their… reconciliation, Scott has been nothing but friendly and supportive, and maybe a little touchy-feely. She’s been trying to convince herself that it’s just part of who he is – physical affection clearly comes naturally to him – but she has yet to see him behave this way with any other female members of the cast (or male, for the record).

Today has been the worst (or best) of all though. Ever since she’d walked in this morning wearing the long-sleeved black shirt with the see-through mesh back he’d hardly been a foot away from her. The first time she’d turned her back to him he’d surprised her by reaching up and tracing along the lines. “Did you know it’s shaped like a big heart?”

She hadn’t noticed, but she certainly knew now. She might as well not be wearing a shirt at all for all the good the mesh does to numb the feeling of his hands and fingers.

While they stand there watching the rehearsal, he lets his hand glides up her spine to rest on the juncture of her neck and shoulder in a move that must surely be subconscious on his part, but that has Tessa tingling in all the right ways. She’s beginning to suspect, when she lets herself fantasize at night, based on how often he’s rested his hand there, that he likes her neck.

They jump in to join the rest of the cast as the _Bad Romance_ duet turns into an ensemble number. At this point they’ll transition into performing the show within a show.

“Will I see you tonight?” Scott, as Christian, asks her, grabbing her waist as they steal a moment out from under the Duke’s ever watchful eyes.

“I don’t know. The Duke has plans for us.” Tessa says back, looking over her shoulder to make sure that they aren’t being watched.

“Please, I’m dying without you.” His grip tightens and Tessa tries to remember that this is all for the show.

“You’re hardly dying, Christian.” She delivers the line deadpan, as instructed, and Scott steps in even closer – until his nose is almost touching hers.

“You look so beautiful today. I could kiss you right now.” A look passes over his dark hazel eyes that seems like _more_ than the character, but Tessa dismisses it as a trick of the light or her own fanciful brain playing games.

“Behave yourself!” She shoots back, breaking free so that the two of them can join in the song and dance medley of _Bad Romance_ and _Toxic._ She can feel Scott’s eyes staying trained on her throughout the number though, and whether or not it’s his interpretation of the character or just him, she doesn’t know.

Most. Confusing. Man. Ever.

 

 

“Make them stop, Tess.” Scott groans. They’re standing by the windows during their lunch break, having opted to stay in with a few of the other cast members and eat packed lunches instead of spending money eating out. Although Scott is apparently regretting the idea now, as said cast members are currently across the room driving him crazy with their singing. Ricky had pulled out his guitar a moment ago, jokingly saying, “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall” and now he’s leading the group in an over-the-top rendition of the song.

“It’s not that bad.” Tessa rolls her eyes at him before popping a cherry tomato into her mouth.

“It’s a nightmare. I’m dying. You have to save my ears.” He grabs both of her hands and brings them up to cover both his ears while making a ridiculous face. Her head falls back as she laughs, and when she brings it back up to look at him with a wide smile she hears the click of an iPhone camera.

“You guys are something else.” Holly says with a laugh, pocketing her phone, and Tessa can't disagree with that statement. 

 

The don’t finish rehearsals that day until pretty late, and by the time they’re ready to go it’s already dark outside. It turns out that their apartments actually _are_ pretty close to each other, so Scott suggests that they head home together and Tessa can’t really find a way to say no. Not that she wants to. She likes where things are now with them, even if it’s a little confusing. He’s comforting and friendly and reminds her of _home_  in a way that means more than just Ontario (a thought she's trying not to dwell on).

They walk to the subway stop nearby in easy companionship. Scott rambling on about how much he loves and respects his brothers and how he wishes that he could go home to visit them and his nieces and nephews more often. Tessa watches the way his face lights up, glowing with pride in his family. She loves seeing this side of him. Loves learning more about the real Scott - the one who isn't polished for the stage or being gossiped about around town.

“I am exhausted.” Tessa states emphatically as she drops into one of the seats on the mostly empty subway car. They’ve been doing a lot of intense choreography this week and she’s not used to it – even with how good of a shape she’s in. It’s starting to take its toll.

Scott slumps down beside her with an equally tired sigh. "You could say that again." 

“I could fall asleep right now.” Tessa confesses, her limbs feeling heavy and her brain starting to shut down all of her higher functioning.

“Go ahead. I’ll wake you up when we get there. Here-“ He holds his arm out so that she can tuck herself into his side.

“Are you sure?” This is probably crossing some sort of boundary, but her eyelids are already drooping and it’s another fifteen to twenty minutes before they reach their stop. Besides, friends can take a nap with each other, right?

“Come here, kiddo.” Scott reaches up to grab her shoulder, fingers skimming over her collarbone as he pulls her in close so that her head can rest on his chest. She should probably be concerned by how natural it feels – and by the fact that falling asleep on Scott is becoming kind of a pattern – but he’s so comfortable and he smells so good and it _was_ his idea…

 

She blinks awake a little while later, Scott’s arm still slung around her shoulder and his head resting on hers. The steady rise and fall of his chest under her cheek giving away the fact that he’d fallen asleep too.

A quick glance at the red letters on the monitor and Tessa realizes with a jolt that they’ve missed their stop. They’ll need to catch the next one if they want to be within walking distance of their respective apartments.

“Scott, wake up.” Tessa nudges him with her finger – not wanting to just suddenly sit up and let his head fall.

“Mmm no.” He murmurs against her hair, nuzzling in closer and bringing his other arm up to cocoon her in his embrace.

“We have to.” She insists, poking him a little harder in the ribs and trying to ignore the rising giddiness inside her chest at the way he’s pulled her in close.

The stop is coming though, and Tessa really doesn’t want to spend the night on the subway (ew), so she pushes against him and slowly pulls away – forcing him to wake up.

“Where are we?” His voice is low and thick with sleep and it pulls at something deep inside Tessa’s gut. The desire to kiss him surging like molten lava inside her chest.

“Not quite lost.” She jokes, pointing to the monitor at the end of the car. 

“Shit, T! We missed our stop!” He runs his hand across his face and up into his hair – mussing it up and completing his rumpled look. Tessa tries not to imagine him looking like this after sex, but she can’t help it. The image of him right now, combined with his voice, is probably going to feature in her fantasies for the foreseeable future. 

“I know. We’ll just have to walk a couple of blocks. Come on.”

They step off the train and rejoin the city above – still bustling with activity despite the late hour.

It's a nice summer night, and they walk in companionable silence to Tessa’s apartment, just enjoying each other’s company and the lull their brains have slipped into as they anticipate falling into bed.

 

It isn’t until later, when Tessa drags herself over to get buried in her comforter after washing off her make-up and brushing her teeth, that she opens her phone and finds out that Scott has tagged her in a comment on Instagram.

Opening the app, she finds that Holly had posted the picture of her and Scott from earlier. The photo definitely won’t do anything to dispel the dating rumors, that’s for sure, but Tessa likes it anyway. And if she screenshots it to save in her personal album as well, well that’s her secret.

 

 

 

 

The next morning Tessa wakes up to a few texts from her Jordan that instantly make her reach for her pillow and bury her head in mortification.

 

 **Jordan:** I don’t believe that anybody feels the way you do, about him now

 **Jordan:** And all the roads you have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead you there are blinding. There are many things that you would like to say to him, but you don’t know how

 **Jordan:** Because maybe, he’s gonna be the one that saves you. And after all, he’s your wonderwall…

 **Tessa:** We’re just friends!

 **Jordan:** Uh huh. I definitely believe you.

 **Jordan:** I think Mom and Alma have already named your children. I believe the name Tallulah was tossed around?

 **Tessa:** You’re the worst.

 **Jordan:** Just calling it like I see it, Sis. Let me know when you set the date. ;) 

 

With an overly exaggerated groan Tessa swings her feet over the side of the bed and stands up. It would be nice if her family wouldn’t jump on this #VirtueMoir train like the smattering of Broadway fans on the internet have, but apparently they’re just as into it, if not more so.

Maybe if she’d dated more frequently her mother wouldn’t be so anxious to latch onto the possibility of Scott, but c’est la vie. What’s done is done and Tessa can’t change the past. She just has to hope that Scott is blissfully unaware of the situation and remains that way. And if their mothers could stop clucking about them like a pair of old hens, well that would be peachy too. 

 

When she arrives at the studio she’s immediately pulled into a debate between Tam and Ricky about what the best musical of all time is. Tam’s vote is for the ever-classic Phantom of the Opera, whereas Ricky is making a hard case for Cats.

“You can’t be serious.” Tessa asks, eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. “Nobody thinks it’s Cats.”

“That’s because they refuse to understand its complexity.”

"There's nothing complex about a bunch of cats on a stage for three hours." Tessa argues.

“Andrew Lloyd Webber doesn’t even think it’s Cats.” Tam backs her up as the two of them corner Ricky with very serious expressions. Choosing the greatest musical of all time is no joke. 

“Have you ever listened to _Memory_? Really listened? Do it and tell me it isn’t amazing.”

“One good song does not a musical make.” Tessa states like she’s laying down the unequivocal law.

“Well then what’s your choice?” Ricky shoots back, clearly defensive.

“Easy. Les Miserables.” She replies with a confident tilt of her chin.

Both Ricky and Tam begin to retort when Tessa sees Scott walk in.

The first thing she notices, with increasing horror, is that he’s wearing a Detroit Tigers t-shirt. He greets everyone with a cheerful, “Good morning!” but she can't be appeased by it in the face of such a travesty. 

"No.” Tessa says as soon as he approaches her and he stops cold – the smile freezing on his face – eyes scanning hers for some sign of what he did wrong.

“No?”

“What are you _wearing_?” She can’t take her eyes off of the hideous orange fabric across from her. Looking at it like it’s caused personal offense.

“It’s a Detroit Tigers shirt. They’re my favorite team.” He says it like it should be obvious. Like he didn’t just break every code there is for Torontonians and Toronto-adjacents alike. 

"You are from Ontario, Scott! You can’t support the _Tigers!_ ”

“Yes I can.” He replies with a huff, folding his arms over his chest and widening his stance like he’s gearing up for battle.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it, not on my watch.” She insists, finally tearing her eyes away from the garish sight in front of her and looking up at him. The corner of his mouth is tilted upwards in a smirk and his eyes dance with mischief as he looks at her.

“You won’t allow it, eh? What are you gonna do, tear the shirt off me?” He has the gall to wink at her, and she will not be goaded into flirting (or whatever it is they do) with him right now.

“I’m going to buy you a Blue Jays shirt and then you’re going to promptly throw that one in the trash.”

He shakes his head slowly, still smiling. “Face it, Virtch. I like the Tigers. You can’t change who I am.”

“Ohhh believe me buddy, I can try.” She pokes him a few times on his sternum to prove her point.

“Is that a challenge?” He grabs her hand and holds it flat against his chest as he steps forward, heat flashing in his eyes, and a throat clears from the front of the room.

They both turn only to realize with a lurch that everyone else has been watching their little display.

“I’m glad to see you’ve swapped out one kind of tension for another, but if you don’t mind we have a show to rehearse.” Alex says, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh.

Tessa can feel herself blushing as she apologizes, but Scott just gives the director an unapologetic grin and throws his arm around her, resting it across her shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"Sorry Alex!" He calls out, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. 

           

           

They finish a little earlier that night, and Tessa fixates on the idea of stopping at the delicious Thai place by her apartment for dinner. Her fridge is sadly, but not unusually, empty other than her roommate’s week-old pizza box and her other roommate’s expired milk carton. They really should have a chat about their dietary habits, Tessa thinks idly as she collects her things.

“You ready to head out?” Scott asks as he walks up beside her, his own bag already slung over his shoulder. Apparently going home together is going to be their _thing_ now.

“Yeah I just need to grab my sweater out of my locker so I can take it home and wash it. Meet you downstairs?”

“Sure, kiddo.” He pats her on the arm and heads out the door while Tessa retrieves her sweater.

She’s just about to leave and join him, raising her hand to bid farewell to the small group that still lingers in the center of the room – sitting in a loose circle on the floor and prop furniture, taking the time to stretch and decompress before heading home for the day.

“Tessa, truth or dare?” Holly calls out before she can say goodbye, and Tessa laughs.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” She asks, pausing in her walk towards the exit to address the group – who are all currently watching her and waiting for an answer. Clearly they expect her to play along.

“No.” Holly laughs. “I dare you to get your cute ass over here.”

Following the command, she joins the group and sits down on the hard wood floor with her legs crossed. Bonding with her cast mates is important, she tries to remind herself, even as she thinks longingly of dinner and her bathtub and book at home.

How harmful could it be to play a few rounds with them? She’ll stay for five minutes, and then run catch up with Scott.

 

“Tam, truth or dare?” Kyle asks with a suspicious glint in his eye.

“Dare.” Tam replies easily, sounding almost bored.

“I dare you to kiss Tessa somewhere other than the mouth.” Kyle challenges and Tessa’s face floods with heat – her cheeks instantly becoming bright red. This was _not_ how she was expecting the game to go at all.

Tam looks at her for permission and Tessa hesitates for a moment. She likes Tam, they’re becoming good friends, and… a kiss is just a kiss, right? She nods (doesn’t want to be labeled a spoilsport or prude) and he scoots in next to her and holds his hand to his chin with an overly exaggerated hum as he looks her over - as if he’s a detective perusing a crime scene - and everybody laughs.

“Aha!” He says, shooting a finger up into the air, and Tessa laughs then too. Reaching out, he tilts her head to the side before leaning in and placing a kiss on the area where her neck meets her shoulder. It feels nice, but also wrong somehow. With a start she realizes that it’s because he’s kissing the area she didn’t realize she’d subconsciously come to think of as Scott’s.

Tam trails his lips along the skin there and it’s been so long since Tessa’s had someone touch her like that, that it sends shivers across her skin.

“What’s going on here?”

Tessa’s eyes shoot open (when did they close?) at the sound of Scott’s voice calling out from behind them – tense, despite his obvious attempt to make it sound casual. She had not expected for him to come find her.

“Truth or dare.” Robyn supplies with a tongue-touched grin. “Wanna play?”

Tessa expects him to say no, that it’s late and he has to get home, but instead she finds him plopping down on the ground next to her – so close that his leg is pressed up against hers – as he gives out a cheerful, “Sure!”

She tries to catch his eye, but either he’s oblivious or avoiding her because he keeps his own eyes fixed on Robyn with that friendly smile of his and waits for his challenge.

Tam leans back to rest on his hands, his shoulder bumping into hers periodically, and the room suddenly feels very hot – sandwiched between these two men whose intentions suddenly seem very unclear.

“Scott, truth or dare?” Robyn asks, eyeing him like prey.

“Wait, it’s Tam’s turn.” Tessa intercepts, wanting to put a stop right now to whatever the other woman is up to.

"She can take it. I’m more than satisfied right now.” Tam says with a wicked smile at Tessa, and she can feel the irritation rolling off Scott in waves, despite his laid-back attitude. She’s not sure _why_ he’s irritated though. It’s not like he likes her, they’re just friends, and a kiss is just a kiss.

"Truth.” Scott replies to Robyn’s question.

“Have you ever slept with a fellow cast member?” Robyn looks him over with a sultry gaze, and normally Tessa likes the perky blonde – she’s fun and wild and nice to everybody – but maybe she doesn’t like her in _this_ particular moment.

“No.” Scott says, and Tessa feels her shoulders relax even as the confirmation that he takes this whole coworkers thing seriously fills her with disappointment.

“Why not?” Robyn asks with a pout, her cherry red lips accentuating the motion in a move that she definitely must be doing on purpose.

“I don’t think follow-up questions are part of the game.” Scott states. “But the reason is because there’s too much potential for complications."

Scott takes his turn then, daring Jeigh to sing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious backwards, and they go around a few more times before it gets back to Tessa.

“Tessa, truth or dare?” Kyle asks, at some point he had pulled out a flask and started passing it around, but both she and Scott were abstaining – which meant they were significantly less giggly than the rest of the group. Although maybe they should indulge, if it would stop Scott from glaring daggers at Tam every time he reaches out to touch Tessa (which is admittedly, a lot).

“Truth.” She says tentatively. She doesn’t know Kyle that well, only that he was in the ensemble for Anastasia, and she doesn’t know what to expect from him, but choosing a dare seems way too risky given what had happened earlier.

“Have you ever had a crush on a cast member?”

She gulps, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. She prays that she's not blushing too obviously as she says, “Yes.”

Tam laughs and knocks her shoulder with his conspiratorially, and she wants to say, “No, not you!” But she keeps her lips sealed.

“Holly, truth or dare?” Tessa asks quickly before any follow-up questions can be thrown at her. She doesn’t dare look at Scott, lest he see the truth in her eyes that she’s beginning to accept. (The truth that she has a major crush on him. But a crush is okay. A crush is harmless.).

“Dare.”

“I dare you to do a handstand while singing the chorus of Lady Marmalade in Spanish.” Tessa says, knowing that Holly is fluent in the second language and figuring her tipsy performance will be the perfect distraction.

           

It isn’t long before they realize that the hour has grown late and that they all need to get back to their homes. Scott still hasn’t looked at her and she’s beginning to worry that she’s seriously offended him. Although how she doesn’t know how.

“Tess, I have a new book for you.” Tam says before she can head out of the door with Scott. He hands her _You Think It, I’ll Say It_ by Curtis Sittenfeld. “ _Was it the beginning of what my life would be like forever_?” He quotes with a smile, fully expecting her to appreciate the gesture. Which she does, but the way Scott is watching them makes her wish he’d picked another time to give it to her.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

          

Scott sits by her side on the subway, quiet and pensive, and Tessa misses the feeling of having his arm around her. But something about the way he’s holding himself makes her keep her distance. She wishes that she had the courage to ask him what's bothering him, but she's afraid that she won't like the answer. Instead she indulges in sneaking glances at him. Even when he's glowering he looks so handsome, and she really wants to reach out and touch him. Maybe she can work hair-grabbing into a few of their scenes... it seems like a waste not to appreciate it properly and often.

“Can you believe we move to Boston on Monday?” She finally asks, in an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts and for lack of anything better to say. “I can’t wait to have my own place.” She adds with a happy sigh.

The producers are putting them all up in temporary apartments near the theatre for the show’s Boston run, and most of the ensemble will be doubled-up, but she, Scott, and Danny get to have their own apartments since they’re the leads. It could be nothing but a ten square foot box with a mattress and Tessa would be happy. The prospect of being alone for two glorious months fills her with unfettered joy.

All she gets from Scott though is a noncommittal hum.

 

“Is everything okay?” She finally asks once they’ve reached her building.

“Hm? Oh, it’s fine, Tess. Just preoccupied tonight, sorry.”

The lack of a nickname, no goodnight hug or kiss on the cheek. Yeah, whatever it is, he’s definitely not fine.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this while half-asleep, so if there are a plethora of mistakes, I'm sorry!


	7. Why Does My Heart Cry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this was supposed to be angsty and then they just wanted to flirt and be cute instead. IDK guys, Scott and Tessa do what they want. 
> 
> Also, watching Aaron Tveit perform live is the first and only time I have looked at a man and thought, "I want to blow him." So that's the kind of raw power that Roxanne can have in person. You've been warned.

**Chapter 7: Why Does My Heart Cry?**

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight.” Scott’s oldest friend, Patrick Chan, says through the speaker phone that night while Scott takes out his frustration by packing up the items that he’ll need for Boston. Patrick is currently playing John Laurens in the Chicago production of _Hamilton_ , and Scott had called in desperate need of advice. After-all, who do you turn to in times of crisis if not your right hand man? 

The two of them had met back in 2011 when they were in _The Book of Mormon_ together and remained close friends ever since. With Chiddy often playing the straight man to Scott's comedy and foolishness.

“You like this girl, Tessa, but you’ve decided you can’t date her because of some arbitrary rule. Now you’re mad because she might be seeing someone else?”

“First of all, it’s not arbitrary. How many times have we seen cast mates date only for it to sour and cause problems in the production?” Scott points out, before acquiescing, “But other than that, basically that's the situation, yeah.”

“Not every relationship is Mack and Stacy.” Patrick points out, referencing the other play they’d done together:  _Romeo & Juliet_, 2013. A play where a bad romance had ruined lives both on and off the stage and had been the impetus for Scott’s strict rule. Stacy had been one of his best friends, and after what had happened she’d quit show business for good, moved back to Portland, Oregon and became a preschool teacher. Scott knows firsthand what can be lost when people stop thinking with their heads.

“What about Will Swenson and Audra McDonald?” Patrick continues, trying to prove his point.

"That doesn’t count. Audra McDonald is a goddess and not of this world, Chiddy. She’s an outlier and shouldn’t be counted.”

“Don’t start using your weird math terms with me. I’m just saying it can work, if you want it to and you take it slow.”

“Taking it slow and making it work might not be the only problem.” Scott argues, remembering vividly the sight of Tam’s lips glued to Tessa’s neck. The image burned across the back of his eyelids like a brand.

It wasn’t enough that he had to watch him manhandling Tessa every day while in character? Now he has to see it outside of rehearsal too?

Scott groans and flops down on the couch, crushing the stacks of clothes there and inevitably wrinkling them beyond hope.

"I’m not sure I’ve heard you jealous before.” Chiddy chuckles. “I kind of wish I was there to see it.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.” Scott replies sarcastically. Watching the neon clock on his microwave switch from 12:59 to 1:00 in the morning and knowing that the late hour means mopey Scott is going to make an appearance any minute. He never has been a night owl.

"Just think Scott, how lucky you are to be alive right now.” Scott can hear Chiddy’s grin through the phone and he rolls his eyes.

“Please don’t.”

“If you don’t go for it, will you ever be _satisfied_?”

“Stop.”

“Are you feeling _helpless_? You look into her eyes and the sky’s the limit?”

"I’m hanging up now.”

“You have to appreciate the irony, though,” Chiddy says, abandoning the puns for the moment, “You, Christian, jealous of the Duke over Satine.”

“I am quite aware of that, thank you.” Scott grumbles with a sniff. No, the irony has _not_ been lost on him. And tomorrow they rehearse Roxanne – which is definitely only going to add to his frustration.

“Maybe take a note from the play then and talk to this girl before you go crazy and someone dies.” Chiddy says with another laugh. The whole situation is obviously incredibly amusing to him.

“You have been no help at all.” Scott deadpans, fully intending to hang up and go to bed. Maybe stew a little before then.

“Scott,” Chiddy stops, suddenly sounding more serious, “Do you like the girl?”

“Yes.” Scott mumbles, rubbing his aching eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you think she could be worth trying to make it work?”

“…Yes.” Scott lets out with a long sigh.

“Then that’s your answer.”

 

Scott lays there on the couch long after Chiddy disconnects the call, drifting in and out of sleep – plagued by dreams of Tessa and Tam and elephant rooms and red lights casting a strange glow over everything.

 

 

The bright summer sun the following morning does nothing to dispel his bad attitude, which seems to have settled behind his eyes and above his right ear in a painful way.

He tries to regain his usual optimistic demeanor on the journey from his apartment to the studio, but all the things he normally smiles at only make him glower more. The dogs bark too loudly, the smells are too smelly, the sun is too hot. Scott, the quintessential morning person, wants nothing more than to get back in bed.

           

When he walks into the rehearsal room the first thing he’s greeted by is Tessa laughing at something Tam is saying, and it looks intimate – nevermind the fact that other people are laughing with them – and Scott can feel himself scowling. She’s wearing a Blue Jays t-shirt, which he knows is for his benefit, but even that can’t make him crack a smile.

“What’s got your goat this morning?” Alex asks as he flips through his notes for the day.

"Nothing. Just getting into character.”

“Well don’t try too hard. You’re supposed to be heartbroken and half-mad, not murderous.” Scott knows Alex means it as a joke, but he still fights the urge to stick out his tongue at his director.

Great. Apparently he woke up eight years old this morning. That will really help him get the girl.

At least rehearsing the scenes leading up to and including _Roxanne_ will provide the perfect cover for his black mood.

 

“Oh I don’t know Lautrec. The man isn’t a monster, he just wants to better her position. Doesn’t he?” Tam says in character as the Duke, and Scott glares at him – free to do so under the guise of being Christian.

“He wants to own her like chattel. That makes him a monster!” Sahr (Toulouse-Lautrec) says angrily, and Scott finds himself nodding imperceptibly along, nearly missing his line.

“He can’t do this to you.” Scott remembers to say, speaking in an urgent whisper and taking Tessa by the arm.

“What? Make me happy?” She bites back. It’s her line, but it still cuts across his heart like a whip. The headache plaguing him all morning throbs.

"I walk the streets going mad with every step. All I can see is you and him – in his arms, in his bed. Wearing his ridiculous clothes. Dressed up like his goddamn pet monkey. Destroying every beautiful thing by his conquest and money. My heart can’t take it.”

“No improvising!” Toulouse calls out.

“I don’t love you Francois!” Tessa looks at him desperately.

“Oh lie to yourself, but not to me!

“I’ve made my decision. Let me be damned for it.” She turns away from him and Scott picks up the prop pistol.

“Let us both be damned and go to hell together.”

Tessa turns to face him, spreading her arms wide. “Then do it and let me die for love!”

At this point the Duke cuts in from where he’s lounging on a chair, watching the production. “Oh that’s preposterous. Who wants to die for love? That’s SO melodramatic. Once Francois has slated his lust he’ll just leave her with nothing. If she was smart she would choose the gangster.”

“Scott, keep your eyes on Tessa here. You’re trying to gauge Satine’s reaction to everything the Duke says.” Alex cuts in, before gesturing for them to continue.

“But then our ending would betray the Bohemian ideals.” Sahr argues.

“No one cares about your ridiculous dogma! Why shouldn’t she choose the gangster?” Tam insists.

“Because she doesn’t love you!” Scott’s voice rings out across the room. Loud and sharp. “… Him. Because she doesn’t love him.”

“Oh, I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, lad.” Tam finishes the scene with a knowing smirk, and Scott marches off the ‘stage’ so that the next song, a group number involving Tessa and Danny and the diamond dogs, can take place.

 

He really should be paying attention to the scene. A good cast member pays close attention to everything. But instead he stares out of the window down at the street below. If only his headache would go away.

“Okay, Scott, we’re ready for you again.” Alex calls out, pulling Scott away from his grim thoughts. He walks to the center of the room and addresses the imaginary audience.

“When you try to write a song, you need to feel something. But I only felt anger and pain. I only saw Satine at rehearsal now. She wouldn’t even look at me. Week after week.” He pauses for dramatic effect.

“And that’s when I started to go mad.”

 

The next scene involves a lot of absinthe and Sia’s _Chandelier_ , and Scott can’t help but think that he could really use a real drink right now. The disgusting black licorice flavor of the famous drink would be a welcome change to the bitter envy that's been coating his throat for the last twenty-four hours. 

Tessa stands by the side of the room watching them and Tam is next to her again. He leans over to whisper in her ear periodically, and Scott wishes that he could see some sign that Tessa doesn’t like it, but her face is unreadable.

“Word to the wise my dears, never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends badly. There is a dance in the brothels of Argentina that tells the story of a prostitute and the man that falls in love with her. First, there is desire, then passion, then suspicion, then betrayal. When love is sold to the highest bidder, there can be no trust. You’ve been warned.”

Danny backs away with the ominous words lingering in the air and the music starts. The unmistakable intro of the violins. Scott steps forward.

 

_His eyes upon your face_

_His hand upon your hand_

_His lips caress your skin_

_It’s MORE than I can stand!_

The music swells, the intensity grows, and Scott’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t feel well, or his own frustration, or – yes – maybe his jealousy, but the emotions of _Roxanne_ come easily to him today.

He gives it his all, sensing Tessa watching him with wide eyes. He tries to ignore her while doing the choreography for the repetition of “put on the red light,” but when he turns around for the end of the song she’s moved so that she’s sitting on one of the chairs right in front of him. Her legs crossed tightly together as she watches with rapt attention.

Like they’re the only two people in the world.

 

_You’re free to leave me_

_But just don’t deceive me_

_And please, believe me when I say_

_I love you!_

 

He hits that last note and Tessa’s eyes fall closed in what can only be described as pure ecstasy.

The music hangs in the air and Scott keeps his eyes on her – uncaring about the rest of the cast clapping loudly around them. When her eyes finally blink open they’re so dilated that there’s only a rim of green left. Her cheeks are flushed, and she lets out a long, shaky breath.

 _Holy shit_.

 

Alex congratulates him and deems the scene good enough for them to move on, and everyone moves around to prepare for the next part of the play.

The next scene involves the Duke threatening Satine, before Scott bursts in to confront her at the Duke’s house. Scott rushes to where Tessa sits on the chaise, eager to touch her, and places his hand possessively on her back. She’s supposed to flinch and pull away, but for one brief moment she leans into his touch. Up close he can see the goosebumps on her skin, and he hopes that it’s the lingering effects of _Roxanne_ and not anything to do with Tam.

          

By the time the day is over, Scott is emotionally exhausted. But also faintly aroused by the little looks Tessa has been shooting at him ever since his performance of the iconic song. He desperately wants to find a way to ask her about her reaction. Does she react that way when Ewan McGregor sings it? Or is it a response to  _him?_  

“Ready to head home?” Tessa bounces over to him, eyes shining bright and already carrying her bag. God, he wishes she meant that in a different way.

_Get a grip, Moir, you haven’t even kissed her._

_Yet._ His ever helpful brain tacks on, and Scott nearly groans. In this whole scenario, he’s mostly frustrated with himself and his inability to just make a fucking decision.  He's come to realize, throughout the day, that none of this is remotely Tessa's fault, and he really just needs to grow a pair and figure out if he's willing to break all the rules, throw caution to the wind, push her up against the wall and-

 _Whoa, calm down._  

"Let’s go.” It’s the most he’s said to her outside of their scripted lines all day, and he wishes he could work up the nerve to ask her out. Or even just to take her hand in his.

“Did you notice my shirt?” She grins up at him as they weave their way through the crowds on the sidewalk towards the subway station.

“I did. You still haven’t convinced me to switch allegiances, even if it does look good on you.”

She ducks her head at the compliment before elbowing him in the ribs. “But I _will_. One step at a time.”

As they sit next to each other, the rocking of the train forcing them to bump shoulders and thighs every other second, Scott considers testing the waters. What could go wrong? She tells him she isn’t interested and/or that she’s dating Tam, and they continue being friends? Being friends with her so far means shared lunches, shared rides home, and lots of laughter and teasing. That isn’t so bad – in fact, it’s really good. So what if he wants to kiss her like he wants air to breathe? He can live with that. Probably.

"How do you think I did with _Roxanne_ today? Any suggestions for improvement?” He says it carefully, laying the bait. He knows she was affected by his performance, and he wants to gauge just how much.

“No, you were perfect.” She says with a little sigh, and Scott feels his first smile of the day spread across his cheeks. His head still aches and he’s beginning to think that a cold is coming on, but he still feels better now, here on this stuffy subway car, than he has all day.

“Perfect, eh?” He grins and she blushes.

“I mean… yeah. I liked it. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He ignores her attempt at nonchalance, sitting back in the seat and feeling a little smug. “I thought you did.”

“It was fine. A little pitchy.” She amends her statement, trying to sound serious, but failing. She’s a terrible liar. The words come out of her mouth like a foreign language.

“Uh huh. You loved it.” He states confidently and she shoves his shoulder.

“It was mediocre at best. I’ve heard better in my shower.”

"I’d like to hear what’s in your shower.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, and Tessa’s eyes grow huge. Her mouth gaping at him like a fish. “I mean, if it’s me.” _That isn’t better! “_ Alone. Singing _Roxanne_. Because I’m amazing.” He stumbles over the words and Tessa continues to stare at him like he’s grown a second head, before bursting out laughing.

It’s a great big, honking laugh and she clutches her stomach as she leans over. Scott can see tears forming at her eyes and he wonders if this is a good thing and she’s laughing at how ridiculous he is (he can work with that), or if she’s laughing at the idea of anything remotely sex-related happening between them. He hopes it’s the former.

He also hopes that someday he  _does_ get to hear her sing in the shower. Preferably while he's standing next to her.  

Oh well, he might as well go for it now. He plays his trump card: “I was watching you, and I couldn’t help but notice just how much you liked it. I’m pretty sure you can’t be left alone with my voice, T.”

She stops laughing immediately and turns as red as a tomato. _Got ya!_

“It’s called acousticophilia and it’s completely normal. I have a degree in psychology.” She says defensively, sounding a little clinical - like she's reading from a dictionary - with a hint of mortification, and Scott makes a mental note to learn the definition ASAP. “Besides, I listened to you sing _Maria_ pretty much nonstop for two years, I think I can handle _Roxanne_.”

She rolls her eyes, the lingering blush on her cheeks giving her away. She clearly hadn’t expected him to notice her rather visceral reaction to his singing earlier. But that was her mistake – Scott notices everything about her.

“Hold on.” He says after taking a minute to comprehend her meaning. “You had the West Side Story recording?”

“I have lots of Broadway recordings, as well as other musicals.” Tessa says, scratching at the fabric of her leggings and continuing to avoid his gaze.

He grins in delight. “Did you have a _crush_ on me, Virtch? Was there a poster on the wall?” He nudges her with his elbow, and it’s suddenly very important that he knows the answer. If she liked him then, she could like him now.

“Absolutely not.”

But she continues to avoid looking at him, instead opting to slouch in her seat and fold her arms tightly across her chest. And if Scott knows anything about Tessa Virtue, it’s that her posture is impeccable. There’s no way she’s being honest here.

“Come on, T.” He loops his arm around her shoulder, the worries that had plagued him for the past couple of days long forgotten. “Tell me the truth. Do you have my other songs too?”

“I have a lot of Broadway recordings.” She repeats herself.

"So that’s a yes.” Scott grins, squeezing her shoulder before releasing her so that they can step off the train.

He follows after her as they head up the stairs towards the street, jogging a little to keep up. She’s walking fast, like if she just moves quickly enough she can avoid this conversation.

Scott doesn’t want to overwhelm her tonight though, so he tucks away the urge to continue teasing her and backs off. “How are you getting up to Boston this weekend?”

Green eyes meet his in surprise, clearly not expecting the change of topic, but he can see the gratitude reflected in them. “Holly rented a van and we’re driving up together tomorrow.” Tessa replies, and Scott can’t deny that he’s disappointed. “You?”

“I rented a car for Sunday.” He answers, wishing he’d gotten to her first before Holly did. The two of them on a long drive together away from the theatre, where they can just be Scott and Tessa, sounds amazing.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday morning then.” Tessa says, and Scott notices with disappointment that they’ve reached her building.

“Yeah, I guess you will.” Impulsively, he leans down and kisses her cheek. Just a feather-light graze of his lips at a safe distance from her mouth, but she sucks in a sharp breath anyway. “Goodnight, Tess.” His voice comes out in a low whisper, and he swears he can see her shudder a little in the orange glow of the street lights.

“Goodnight.”

 

\------- 

 

When Scott had made the reservation online he’d chosen the cheapest option, imagining a nice, normal sized car like a Toyota Corolla or Nissan Sentra. But now, staring at the Fiat across from him, he realizes that was a monumental mistake.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t need to take a lot of things with him to Boston, and that he didn’t end up offering Tessa that ride, because there’s no way he’d be able to fit much more than himself and some clothes in the tiny car. He can hear his brothers laughing at him from all the way in Ontario and Alberta, respectively. If they were here they'd never let him live it down. Their trucks could swallow this car whole.

The salesperson insists there's nothing else available, so with a sigh Scott signs the paperwork and folds himself into the car. His headache from Friday has returned full-force and he’s already popped 800mg of Tylenol in an attempt to curb its effects. This might just be the longest four hour drive of his life.

 

He grabs his boxes from his apartment, bidding the space farewell until August, and sets off down the road. Getting out of Manhattan on a Sunday morning (or any morning. Or always) is a nightmare, but once he’s on the road it frees something inside his soul.

The part of him that grew up running through the wide open spaces of Ilderton – his only care in the world being whether or not the Leafs made the playoffs – is breathing happily in the warm New England air.

There’s nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, the pine forests, and the feeling of being in a land that time forgot fifty (or two hundred) years ago. He and Chiddy had taken a two week sabbatical last year up in Acadia National Park, and Scott had fallen in love. That kind of old-world, ethereal feeling - that’s the New England coast, especially the closer you get to Maine, and Scott thinks that if he doesn’t end up in Ilderton after retirement, he hopes it’s here. Where the people are “wicked smaht” and the seafood is always fresh and wilderness is never far away.

He pulls over at Chez Ben Diner outside of Hartford to grab some lunch – mostly drawn to it by the big “American Canadian Cuisine” sign across the top. The moment he walks in the door, a little bell tinkling and announcing his arrival, he’s greeted by a sweet looking older woman with short sandy hair.

“Welcome to Chez Ben! I’m Anne Quirion. You here by yourself?”

“Yup, just me. I’m heading to Boston.” Scott replies, not sure why he felt the need to share the last bit with her. Although something about her reminds him of his mom. She's cheery with a friendly smile. Photographs of people he assumes are her family cover the buttery yellow walls. 

“Well I’m so glad you decided to stop by! Are you from Boston?” Her New England accent is thick, and Scott figures she must be from further up north like the backwoods of Maine or Vermont.

“No, I’m from Ontario, actually, but I’m heading to Boston for work.”

 “Canadian, eh? That’s my husband, Joel.” She points over to the kitchen area where a jovial looking man with a thick comb-mustache grins and waves. “He’s from Halifax so don’t be afraid to ask for something from back home. It’s all real here and I promise it won’t disappoint.”

She leads him to a booth by the window, leaving Scott with a smile and vague sense that he’s just stepped into a TV set from 1955. 

He ends up ordering the Tortiere and a coffee, popping a few more Tylenol. This cold thing is becoming the real deal, and he makes a mental note to pick up some Sudafed as soon as he arrives in Boston.

Anne mostly leaves him alone, letting one of the servers take care of his coffee refills, but when he’s paid his bill and starts to move towards the door, she walks back over.

“I never let a customer leave without a Wisdom Card.” She hands him a thick little piece of paper with the diner logo on the back, and Scott turns it over.

 _True friends are like diamonds – bright, beautiful, valuable, and always in style_.

It’s a simple platitude, but the word diamond sticks out like a neon light and he tries not to dwell on the metaphor that could so easily be found there. “Um, thanks.” He says awkwardly, shuffling towards the exit.

"Who is she?" Anne asks before Scott can make his escape. 

"What?" 

"Or he. The person the card made you think of." Anne looks at him and Scott knows she won't let him leave without an answer.

"Just a coworker." He mutters, anxious to get back on the road and leave this woman with the knowing eyes behind. 

"I always have to ask. I believe that the cards lead the way, you know? The person it makes you think of, there's always unresolved business there - for bad or for good. Although in your case, I think it's good." 

Scott stares at her. "I guess so, yeah. It's... good?" 

"Follow your heart and you'll never be lead wrong." She says, pointing to the sign hanging over the door that he'd failed to notice when he came in. 

"Thanks." He says again, wondering idly if his mom had been here too. Making friends with all the older women she can find and getting them to convince  _Scottie_ to date the pretty girl from London. He knows it's impossible, but still. 

“Anytime. I hope we see you again!”

 

He can feel the congestion settling into his sinuses as he continues his drive, and his fever-addled brain spends most of the time rotating the words bright, beautiful, and valuable round and round in his head as he thinks up all the ways they apply to Tessa. His diamond.

Or, well, not _his_ diamond. But you get the idea.

               

By the time he reaches his new apartment building, he feels truly lousy – head pounding and throat itching. He has just enough residual energy to park the car and unload his boxes before collapsing onto the couch.

He falls asleep almost the second his head hits the cushions.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acousticophilia (noun): Sexual attraction to a sound, such as a voice or music.


	8. I Can't Survive (Without Your Sweet Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful responses to this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

** Chapter 8: I Can’t Survive (Without Your Sweet Love) **

****

“Are we going to talk about it?”

They’ve been on the road for just over two hours and so far sang their way through a lot of Broadway’s greatest hits, a smattering of pop songs, and one rather overly dramatic rendition of _I Will Always Love You_ that probably had Whitney Houston rolling over in her grave.

Now though, Holly had turned down the music and turned towards Tessa with a serious face, her thick English accent emphasizing the underlying message:  _you don't have a choice._

“Talk about what?” Tessa asks, keeping her voice level and staring at her shoes where they rest on the dashboard.

"You’ve got a thing for Scott.” She states it like it’s a well-known fact, and Tessa blushes and doesn’t respond because she _does_ have a thing for him, but she isn't about to admit that out loud. The only person she's told is Jordan. “I’ve suspected it for a while, but yesterday just confirmed it.”

“What do you mean?” Tessa squeaks out, turning her head sharply to stare at Holly. She knew Scott had noticed, but he’d been looking right at her. Had she really been so obvious to everyone else?

“Girl, everybody noticed just how much you liked _Roxanne_.” She takes her eyes off the road for a second to arch her eyebrows at Tessa. “Not that I blame you. He did a great job. But you didn’t see anybody else reaching climax, did you?”

Tessa’s feet drop to the floor of the car as she sits up, sputtering loudly. “I did _NOT!_ ”

Holly starts laughing, her head thrown back for a moment before switching lanes to speed around a rather slow Prius. “Your face right now.” She laughs again and Tessa slumps back in her seat with a scowl.

"But I didn’t mean we should talk about that, we can talk sexual fantasies later, I meant we need to talk about Scott and Tam and what’s going on with both of them.” Holly’s voice is back to being serious, and Tessa knows this is important to her. “We’re a relatively small cast, in a brand new production that will be under a lot of scrutiny. The three of you are the leads, not counting Danny, and if there’s a falling out between you it could bring down the whole production.”

"No pressure.” Tessa says in a small voice, watching the signs for Hartford and thinking about how hungry she is and how much she doesn't want to have this conversation. She’d only had time to eat a banana as she ran out the door that morning – bidding farewell to her roommates with a goodbye that translated to _good riddance_ \- and Hangry Tessa is about to become a thing.

“I’m not trying to pressure you. I just hope you’re thinking about it. Tam may be a ridiculous flirt, but underneath that he _does_ fancy you. Scott’s crazy about you too-“

“No he’s not.” Tessa reflexively disagrees.

“Yes he is.” Holly replies back, brokering no room for argument. “I know you’re new to the musical side of Broadway, but I’ve known Scott for a while. And I also happen to have been in Hamilton with his best friend Patrick Chan a few years ago. Chiddy and I still stay in contact and he’s told me a few things.”

“What kind of things?” Tessa asks, feeling hope bubbling up inside her like a spring.

“ _Things_.” Holly smirks, clearly keeping secrets. “My point is, Tam, Scott, neither, both" She winks. "Whatever you want to do, you should make a decision and have an honest discussion with both of them before opening night.”

“I guess… I just don’t see the point. Scott's said a few times now that he has a no dating coworkers rule.”

"Scott wears his heart on his sleeve and that can make him overreact to things sometimes. He can think up seventy-five ways something will go wrong before he's even started, if he lets himself.” Holly laughs with affection. “But it’s a good heart, all the same.”

Tessa sits quietly, contemplating everything Holly said and thinking about the two men in the show vying for her attention (she won’t say love – that sounds too pretentious). They couldn’t be more different. From the minor traits like different accents and totally dissimilar appearances, to the big things like their personalities.

Tam is fun, playful, likes sharing books with her, and was welcoming the instant Tessa joined the show. 

Scott drove her crazy from day one.

But the more she’s gotten to know him the more she’s seen how kind he is, how thoughtful, the fact that he’s friends with _everybody_ , he makes her laugh like nobody else, he looks out for her, he somehow manages to be both a giant goofball _and_ dead sexy (how that’s possible, she has no idea), and his voice. _His voice_.

Tessa sighs loudly. There’s no comparison. Not really.

“You hungry, babe? Because I’m starving.” Holly asks, but it’s not a question. She’s already taking the off-ramp into Manchester. “The first decent place you see, we’re stopping. I would kill for some pancakes.”

“How about there?” Tessa points at a little diner advertising American and Canadian food, and Holly hums in agreement.

“Brilliant.”

 

The inside is warm and cozy, and Tessa loves all the personal pictures on the walls. It feels like the kind of place that’s been in the same family forever and hasn’t changed since the day it opened.

“Welcome to Chez Ben. My name is Nicole and I’ll be your server today. I apologize that Anne isn’t here to greet you, but she’s in the back so I’m sure she’ll stop by your table later.”

Tessa looks over at Holly with a shrug as the name means nothing to them, and follows the teenager over to one of the tables. Holly immediately orders a stack of strawberry pancakes and, after a quick scan of the menu, Tessa gets a Canadian omelet.

“I know I’m going to have to do an extra hour at the gym tomorrow, but I don’t care.” Holly says as soon as her food arrives, taking a ginormous bite and moaning loudly as soon as the food hits her tongue.

“Do you want me to leave you alone for a minute?” Tessa jokes, noticing people turning to look at Holly in various states of curiosity and disapproval.

“Hey, you have _Roxanne_ , I have these pancakes.”

Touché. 

 

It isn’t until they’re leaving that the mysterious Anne makes an appearance. She turns out to be a sweet older lady with a warm smile.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t greet you when you came in. We had a bit of a disaster with our maple syrup delivery. I hope you enjoyed your food?”

“Every bit of it.” Holly replies emphatically, looking thoroughly sated, and Tessa chuckles.

“I’m so glad. Let me give both you beautiful girls Wisdom Cards before you go.” She pulls two pieces of paper out of her pocket like this isn’t a weird thing at all for her to do and hands them over.

Tessa accepts it with a smile and a thank you, like she was always taught, before turning it over to see: _Rules are made to be broken._

Holly leans over to peek at it and promptly bursts out laughing. “Oi, if there’s a higher power out there in the universe, it’s speaking to you today.” She laughs again and Anne looks pleased, even as Tessa blushes and shoves the card deep inside her purse.

“We should get going.” Tessa says in a rush and practically shoves Holly out the door.

 

 

By the time they reach Boston it’s early afternoon and the humidity is out in full force. There’s evidence of rain the night before, and the moisture that lingers in the air leaves Tessa’s shirt sticking to her back almost the moment they step out of the van.

The apartments they’ve been assigned to are in one of those pre-furnished places for temporary living and Tessa fully expects it to be kind of dingy and low-budget. Not that she cares, any place where she gets to be alone for three months is fine by her.

But when Holly pulls up to the address they’ve been given located only a block from the theatre and Boston Common, both of their mouths drop open.

“This seems really fancy.” Tessa hesitates as she stares at the glass building. “Are you sure it’s the right place?”

“45 Stuart Street, Boston, Massachusetts.” Holly confirms, reading off the email everyone had been sent. “The producers must really be throwing everything they have at this play.” She whistles loudly, clearly impressed, before leading the way inside and up to the reception desk.

“Tessa Virtue. Yes, here you are. You’re room 517.” A gruff looking man who probably doubles as security for the building hands her a key and some paperwork, and once Tessa’s finished signing she finds herself the proud new (temporary) owner of a chic Boston apartment.

 

The space itself is small, but perfect. An open living room and kitchen area, lots of natural light, and a bathroom as big as the bedroom with plenty of space for getting ready in the morning.

Tessa spends a full ten minutes just lying on the bed and listening to the sweet sound of nothing except the faint traffic down below. This was going to be pure heaven.

She unpacks and organizes everything so that the entire place is exactly how she wants it before ordering pizza (she feels like indulging – after-all, it’s moving day) and settling in to watch a rerun of _Sabrina_ on TV and daydream about what it would be like to meet Audrey Hepburn in person.

 

 

Sunday is spent exploring the city. She dons a comfortable pair of sneakers, her favorite sunglasses, and slathers on plenty of sunscreen before trekking through the Freedom Trail – making sure to stop at every historical point and learn as much as she can. Tessa is determined to be Bostonian for the duration of her stay - and that means getting to know the city like the back of her hand.

By the end of the day she is utterly exhausted, but has fallen in love with Boston Public Garden (deciding it would be her new jogging place), indulged at Mike’s Pastry (the best cannoli she’s ever eaten), and bought a painting of Beacon Hill that she just _had_ to have.

When she falls into bed that night, she is completely and irrevocably in love with the city and the proud owner of a Boston Bruins t-shirt and Red Sox baseball cap (not that Scott or anyone back home needs to know that).

 

\-------

 

“Tessa, have you heard from Scott?” Is the first thing she hears after waking up from a glorious night of uninterrupted sleep. She’s up, dressed, and ready to head to the warehouse where rehearsals are being held until the Emerson Colonial Theatre finishes being remodeled, and the last thing she expected was a call from her director asking where her costar is.

Fear shoots through her like a lance. She knew he was driving up yesterday. What if…?

“I called him last night and this morning and he didn’t reply. Usually he’s pretty good at answering. It might just be that his phone is dead after the move, but can you go to his apartment and see if he’s there? It’s number 414.”

“Of course! I’ll go right now.” Tessa replies, hanging up the call and rushing out of her apartment and down the hall to the staircase – opting to save time by just running down to his floor instead of waiting for the elevator.

The pounding of her heart gets louder as she approaches Scott’s door. She knocks once. Twice. A third time. But there’s no response.

Deciding he must not be home she turns to go, but then on a whim turns back and tries the handle. To her surprise (and concern) the knob turns easily and the door opens.

“Scott?” She calls out tentatively, eyes scanning the room for any sign of him. There are brown moving boxes scattered pell-mell around the small kitchen and trailing back towards what she assumes is the door to his bedroom, but they don’t look like they’ve been touched.

There’s something hanging off the arm of the couch though, and she does a double-take when she realizes that it’s a _foot_.

“Oh God. Please don’t be dead.” She whispers as she walks slowly in that direction, coming around the side to face the front of the couch. Relief floods her system when she sees Scott laying there, chest rising and falling steadily as he sleeps.

His cheeks are flushed though and he looks really sweaty. Bending over, Tessa places a hand on his forehead and it comes away hot.

 

**Tessa:** He’s here. He’s sick. Going to make sure he’s okay.

 

**Alex:** That’s a relief. Keep me posted. We can get along without you guys for a day.

 

The first thing Tessa does is call her mother. She’s never been very good around illness, even when it’s herself, and doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone.

“Mom, what do I do?!” Her voice comes out loud and strained the minute her mom answers the phone. “Scott’s _dying_.”

“Tessa, slow down. What do you mean he’s dying?” Kate replies in concern, and Tessa can hear the clinking sounds of dishes and silverware giving away the fact that she’s interrupted her mother during brunch. A female voice in the background asks _who’s dying?_ and Tessa briefly wonders who her mom is dining with.

“I came over to see if he’d made it to Boston safely, because nobody had heard from him, and he’s just _here_ on his couch like a dead man.”

“Tell me his symptoms.” Her mom immediately gets down to business, and Tessa feels a strong surge of appreciation. Her mom can handle anything.

“Um… red face, sweaty, sleeping.” Scott seems to choke on his next breath for a moment and Tessa’s eyes grow wide in panic as she waits for him to calm down. “And congested.”

“Sounds like a bad cold to me. Hardly fatal.” Her mom laughs a little bit before whispering to whoever she’s with:  _It’s Scott. He’s fine._

Not fatal. That means Tessa can take a second to ask, “Who are you talking to?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m with Alma. Scott’s mother.”

Tessa slams her palm into her forehead. Great. That’s just what she needed in this situation – Scott’s mom to know that she’s here. Now if he _does_ die all the Moirs will know just who to blame. She knows he has a big family, and imagines a mob of angry Scott-clones crashing through her door with pitchforks and torches.

“Tessa, wake him up – try to get him to drink some water and eat something. Maybe take a shower. And then go to the drug store and get him some cold medicine – make sure it’s the kind that reduces a fever. He’ll be fine a few days.”

“Are you sure?” Tessa asks, biting her thumbnail as she stares at Scott’s prone form.

“ _Yes_.” Kate chuckles. “Text me if you need anything else. Also, Alma says can you please give him a kiss from  her?” There's laughter in the background, and Tessa wants to find the nearest hole and crawl into it. 

"Bye, mom." She hangs up - feeling nervous and clammy. There’s a very good reason she never went into nursing. 

But she’s determined to help Scott like she said she would, so with a deep breath she moves into action. First retrieving a glass from one of the cupboards and filling it with water, placing it carefully on the end table by his head so that it doesn't spill, wishing she had a coaster, before kneeling down in front of him.

“Scott.” She says quietly. No response.

"Scott!” A little louder, still nothing.

"You have to wake up.” She shakes his shoulder – probably harder than necessary because he jolts awake like he’s been shocked.

“Wazgoinon?” He looks around, bleary-eyed and slow, his eyes landing on Tessa in confusion as he just blinks at her.

“You’re sick.” Tessa supplies helpfully.

“You're gorgeous. Are you my nurse?” He sounds slightly noncoherent and attempts to smile, while Tessa tries not to react to the unexpected compliment. It’s probably wise if she sets his expectations right from the start.

“No. I’m just here to try and stop you from dying.”

He grimaces and sits up, accepting the water she hands him with a grateful smile. “I feel like my head was run over by a truck.”

“You look like it, too.”

“Thanks.” He replies sarcastically, and that reassures her more than anything that he’ll be okay.

“I just meant you look sick.”

“Not helping. I’d prefer it if you said I looked handsome or dashing.” He gives her a lopsided smile.

“Ask me again when you don’t have snot coming out your nose.” Tessa says with a laugh, handing him a tissue from her bag.

“Well, that’s not completely humiliating.” Scott groans after blowing his nose, and Tessa laughs again.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got to run to the store and get you some medicine and food, but let’s get you in the shower first.” The look he gives her is positively sinful, despite his disheveled appearance, and Tessa’s cheeks heat up. “I didn't mean it like _that_.”

“Are you sure? Because I am not opposed.” He waggles his eyebrows and Tessa hurriedly looks away.

“That’s the fever talking.”

“The fever in my blood.”

It sounds so ridiculous that Tessa laughs again, in part to cover up her own embarrassment and also to hide the fact that yes, even sick and delusional, she still finds him attractive.

“Come on, Don Juan. Let’s move.” She pulls him up from the couch and he leans on her more than he probably needs to as they make their way to the bathroom.

“You smell really good.” He whispers, burying his nose in her hair and sending shivers down her spine.

“Did you just _lick_ me?” She cries out, stepping back and grabbing the wet spot on her neck while Scott stumbles at the sudden loss of her support.

“I just wanted a taste.” He pouts, completely adorable, and Tessa sighs. Sick Scott is apparently a giant marshmallow with no boundaries.

She steps closer and lets him lean on her again. “It’s fine. Let’s just try to keep our tongues in our mouths, okay?”

“You’re no fun.” He grumbles and she props him up on the bathroom counter so that she can turn on the shower - carefully testing the water temperature to make sure he'll be comfortable.

When she turns back around he’s already got his grungy t-shirt off and is working on the button of his pants.

“What are you doing?” Her voice comes out loud and shrill as her eyes zero in on his hands. Unable to stop them from bouncing back and forth between the wide expanse of skin now visible from his abs up to his chest and where his hands are resting – the top button now undone and his pants slipping dangerously low. Her brain has become completely useless as it just repeats  _abs, chest, nipples, hips, happy trail..._  

“You said I had to take a shower.” Scott says like a petulant child who doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

“Yes, but not with me still in here!” Tessa protests, finally dragging her eyes away from his body and looking him in the face. A face that looks entirely too smug for someone so sick. He _definitely_ noticed her staring. Oh God – she’s never going to be able to look at him again.

“Are you _sure_?”

“I’m going to the store. I’ll be back soon. Put on clean clothes. Don't slip and die.” With that terse command Tessa flees the room. Leaving a smirking Scott to manage on his own.

 

By the time she’s returned she’s given herself about fifty reprimands for lusting after a sick person (another reason not to go into nursing), as well as dropped a can of soup on her toe because her brain had decided to mash-up Shirtless Scott with Singing Scott and she almost combusted on the spot.

“Scott?” She calls out tentatively, not wanting to walk in on him naked by accident. Mostly. It’s something she would definitely not mind seeing under different circumstances. Consensual, both of us are healthy and thinking clearly, circumstances. 

“M’over here.” He raises an arm halfheartedly from where he’s sitting on the couch, and Tessa walks over – relieved to see that he’s dressed in a pair of Leafs sweatpants and a t-shirt with a plaid moose on it. _He’s just so Canadian sometimes_ , she thinks with an affectionate shake of her head.

“I come bearing gifts.” She holds up the grocery bag before reaching inside and handing him the cold medicine. “Take that, and I’m going to go heat up the soup.”

Campbell’s Chicken Noodle. Heat it up and stir it so it doesn’t burn, then serve. Tessa can follow those instructions (she hopes).

She can hear Scott turn on the TV and find some game to watch – she thinks it’s baseball – and she sends a quick text to her mom.

 

**Tessa:** Not dead yet. Showered, drugged, and about to be fed. I think I’m getting the hang of this.

 

**Mom:** But did you kiss him better too?

 

**Tessa:** MOM

 

Tessa stares down at her phone in outrage. Clearly her mom has been chatting too much with Jordan, the little snitch. And apparently with  _Alma_ too. God, if any of this gets back to Scott Tessa's going to have to retire early and never return to New York.

The soup starts to boil and Tessa quickly retrieves a bowl off the shelf and pours some inside, then grabs a bottle of Gatorade that she’d purchased because she vaguely remembers something about electrolytes being important when sick.

“Thanks, Virtch. You’re the best.” Scott says with a soft smile when she hands him the bowl and sits down next to him. He sounds more coherent, and she can tell by the blush spreading up his neck that he’s embarrassed about earlier.

“You’re welcome. Feeling any better?”

“A little. The shower helped.” He glances over at her, before looking back at the TV. As if the Red Sox are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “I’m sorry… about before.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She reaches out and pats his thigh, letting her hand linger on the soft cotton fabric. “Everyone gets a little ridiculous when they’ve got a fever.” _Do they? She’s pretty sure she doesn’t flirt when she’s sick_.

“Yeah…” He says quietly, focusing intently on the game and eating his soup. Tessa finds herself mesmerized by the way his jaw works as he eats. Now that he’s showered and a little more himself, she can’t help but appreciate his looks, and how nice he smells – fresh and clean and masculine. “Sorry you missed rehearsal because of me.”

_Huh?_ It takes her a minute to remember ogling him is not appropriate right now. “Oh, it’s no problem. I’m glad I could help. Besides, I think it was all ensemble scenes today anyway. I’ll just ask Holly or Tam what I missed.”

She wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t already watching him, but his jaw clenches tightly at the mention of the other man’s name. The muscles there becoming prominent in a way that she finds strangely arousing.

“Do you…” He starts tentatively, and Tessa waits anxiously for him to finish. “...See them outside of rehearsals much?”

_Is he asking what she thinks he’s asking_? “I see Holly a bit. We get coffee sometimes on the weekend. I’ve only seen Tam when we go out with other cast members.”

Scott still refuses to look at her, waiting until the Red Sox have scored a double before opening his mouth again. “So you’re not dating?” The words come out wobbly and rushed, like he was trying to throw them away. Eject them from his body as quickly as possible.

“Tam? No, I’m not. He’s just a flirt.”

Scott sets down his now empty bowl and relaxes back into the couch cushions, his shoulder resting against hers. “Good.” He says it so quietly that Tessa’s almost positive she misheard him, but she doesn’t dare ask.

It takes a few more innings, but Scott falls back asleep leaning against her shoulder and Tessa lets him stay there. Figures it’s his turn after the couple times she’s fallen asleep on him.

 

\-------

 

Cozy.

Warm.

Happy.

Those are the three things Tessa thinks in succession as she says goodbye to the fading images of her family's cabin on Lake Huron and slowly journeys back to reality.

The first thing she notices is that she’d fallen asleep on the couch.

The second is that she’s not alone. There’s someone tucked in behind her – their face smushed in between her shoulder-blades and their hand resting lightly on her hip.

The third, and most alarming, is that she fell asleep on _Scott’s_ couch and it’s _Scott_ who is currently dozing comfortably in her personal space.

Spooning. That’s what they’ve been doing. Tessa’s eyes shoot open just in time to see the sun slip behind the horizon. Apparently they’ve been asleep for a long time – a fact made all the more obvious by the crick in her neck and the fact that she can’t feel her left leg. The prickling when it wakes back up is _not_ going to be pleasant.

“What time is it?” Scott’s voice is muffled in her shirt and he sounds like he’s still mostly asleep, but his fingers have started to stroke softly back and forth across her abdomen where her shirt had ridden up during their nap, and Tessa feels a rush of heat between her legs so strong it’s almost overwhelming.

“Late.” She manages to choke out, his pinky running along the waistline of her leggings and sending her brain reeling down a path she’s not sure she’ll recover from.

He hums and she feels it down to her toes.

“I should go” She whispers, the room is growing rapidly darker now that the sun has gone down. There’s a heavy air of intimacy hanging over them and she’s not sure she’s ready to handle it. Or that Scott even wants it. _He’s sick for God’s sake!_ She mentally berates herself. Now is not the time to be thinking about making a move.

His hand has stopped moving and his breathing is deeper again, so Tessa slips carefully out of his grasp and stands up. There’s a throw blanket that must have come with the furnishings hanging off the back of the chair in the corner, so she grabs it and drapes it over him, unable to resist moving some strands of hair off his forehead. He turns his head as if seeking more of her touch, but Tessa drops her hand and walks away.

Finding his phone and a charger in his duffle bag on the bed, she plugs it in for him before sending him a text.

 

**Tessa:** Didn’t want to wake you. I went back to my place. #517. Call or just show up if you need anything. I’ll check on you in the morning.

 

With one last look back, Tessa slips out the door and heads straight to the gym on the top floor. It takes three hours before she’s worked off all the built up arousal and adrenaline and can finally fall exhausted into bed, only to spend most of the night dreaming about couch cuddles that evolve into something  _more_. 

She is so screwed. 

 

 


	9. You'll be Doing Fine Once the Music Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the sun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn't anticipating this fic to be so drawn out, but these two refuse to move fast.

** Chapter 9: You'll be Doing Fine Once the Music Starts **

****

_Rules are made to be broken._

 

Scott stares at the card for a straight twenty minutes. He’d found it on the floor that morning after waking up on the couch – his fingers searching for a body that wasn’t there (and he’s not entirely sure ever had been, despite the lingering smell of strawberries).

The card must have fallen out of Tessa’s purse the day before when she was nursing him back to health, and he’s been trying to decide what to make of it all morning.

Normally, he’s not one to believe in soulmates or superstition or fate, but what are the chances that she would stop at the same exact diner and get a card so perfectly directed at him? Even to Scott’s skeptical brain, it feels like a sign from God or the Universe or some sort of supernatural influence.

Maybe...

Maybe breaking his rule wouldn't be so bad, just this once.

Maybe he and Tessa could make it work, assuming that’s what she wants too. It’s entirely possible that after his embarrassing display yesterday she’ll want nothing to do with him. After-all, he'd spilled coffee on her and she hated him for weeks, so... he's expecting the worst today.

He blushes at the memories – flirting with her,  _licking_  her (not one of his finest moments), practically stripping in front of her (although he suspects, based on her reaction at the time, that she didn’t mind it all that much). The first thing on his agenda when he gets to the rehearsal warehouse this morning is giving her a massive apology.  

Slipping the Wisdom Card into the same slot in his wallet as the one he'd received, he gets up, showers, dresses, and takes more cold medicine before heading to meet his fate.

 

On his way there he stops at Starbucks to get a coffee for Tessa – flat white – and gets distracted by the tiny little robin egg blue building next door.  _Flower Shop_  is written in swirly letters across the window, and Scott can tell that it’s practically overflowing wall to wall with greenery. So much so that there are plants stacked up outside and spilling out onto the sidewalk. Something about it reminds him of Tess, so after paying for his drinks he steps inside.

“Good morning. Looking for something in particular?”

For a building that can’t be bigger than a moderately sized bedroom, Scott has no idea where the voice is coming from. All he can tell is that it’s female.

“Um… just something to say thank you. For a friend.” He looks over a few bouquets of roses. Those are timeless, right? He could give her a single red rose like in Phantom of the Opera. Or is that too creepy? He's never sure where people stand regarding the Phantom these days. Maybe it's best to avoid the comparison to an obsessive stalker until he learns Tessa's take on the character. 

“What are you saying thank you  _for_?”

Scott nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the woman’s voice right behind him. Turning around, he finds an elderly Asian woman who can’t be taller than 5’1 looking up at him expectantly.

“I was sick and she took care of me.”

“Ah. Not red roses then.” She guides him over to a bucket full of bright pink flowers. “The peony was valued for its medicinal uses in ancient and medieval times. It also can symbolize compassion. Plus, it is not as common as the rose, and therefore will impress the lady more.”

“How do you know I want to impress her?”

“Handsome young man who comes in looking for flowers to say thank you?” She arches a thin eyebrow at him and Scott chuckles.

“That obvious, eh?”

“Like a sore thumb. That’ll be twelve dollars.”

 

\-------

 

“You bought me flowers?” Tessa looks up at him with wide eyes and for one panic-inducing moment Scott thinks he’s made a giant mistake, standing there with a coffee tray in one hand and the bouquet in the other. He looks like every cliche guy on a first date. But then her mouth stretches into a wide smile and her eyes practically start sparkling. “Peonies are my favorite! Thank you!” She lifts the bouquet to her nose, inhaling deeply, and Scott feels like the sun has taken up new residence in his heart.

“I wanted to say thank you for yesterday, and… sorry, again, for  _you know_.”

Once, when Scott was fifteen, he’d had a crush on Susie Randall, an eighteen year old rodeo star with curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She could barrel-race with the best of them and he attended every rodeo just to watch her. One day he finally worked up the nerve to ask her to be his date to the Spring Fling dance – all jittery awkwardness and full of the overwhelming knowledge that she was way out of his league. She’d patted his head, called him cute, and that was it. They never spoke again.

Scott never expected to repeat that feeling, especially not when he’s pushing thirty-one years old, but it rattles around his memory like a loose screw as he waits for Tessa’s response. Once she remembers his behavior yesterday, she might throw the flowers back in his face.

“Scott,” Tessa starts with a little laugh and kind smile, “I already told you that you have nothing to apologize for. And I was happy to help. Plus,” She leans in to whisper, “You were kind of adorable.”

He can’t help but smile. Adorable might not be  _sexy_ , but it’s certainly a good thing – right? She hasn't thrown anything at him, at least. 

He feels pressure on his shoulder and realizes that Tessa’s placed her hand there for balance as she pulls herself up to kiss his cheek. A soft press of her lips on what could  _almost_  be the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” She says quietly after dropping back down, her face close enough that he could count all of the freckles scattered across her cheeks and forehead if he wanted to (he wants to). It’s only the knowledge of their audience that stops him from hauling her against his body and kissing her within an inch of her life. Or maybe just stroking her cheek and telling her how beautiful she is - he'd be happy doing that too. 

But there's also the annoying fact that he’s still sick and would feel terrible if he passed it along to her.

Still,  _take that, Susie Randall_ , he thinks – feeling utterly pleased with this turn of events.

“What’s this? Flowers?” Tam interrupts, looping his arm around Tessa’s shoulders, “Is that all it takes to get you to play nurse, Tess? Because I think one of those red and white candy-striper outfits would be  _perfect_  on you. Just say the word and I’ll get you any kind of flowers you want.”

Scott can feel his fingernails digging into his palms. They talked about this yesterday – that Tessa and Tam aren’t dating and he’s just a flirt – but in his relief at that information Scott had failed to ask her if she  _wanted_  to date Tam. He’d just assumed… and now he doesn’t know what to think. He feels like a baseball player who was confident in stealing second only to get called OUT at the last moment.

“There is no way I would wear one of those.” Tessa replies, carefully stepping out of Tam’s hold and walking over to gently lay her flowers down on top of her bag.

“What if I paid you?” Tam smirks, and Scott wonders what it is about English accents that can make them go from charming to villainous in a single sentence.

“You do know she’s not  _actually_  a prostitute, right?” Scott deadpans, folding his arms over his chest. Mostly to stop himself from hitting the guy. He’s not a violent person, but that smarmy smile might change his mind.

“You do know you don’t  _actually_  have to fall in love with her, right?” Tam snaps back. “Life doesn’t need to imitate art.”

“Tam!” Tessa sounds mad, and Tam instantly backs off – looking slightly ashamed. “Scott was just being nice. Stop being an idiot.”

“Sorry. I crossed a line. I’m sorry.” He holds up his hands in surrender, and to his credit, the guy does sound genuinely apologetic. Scott relaxes when Tessa nods and tells him he’s forgiven. He still kind of wants to hit him though. Or put red Kool-Aid in his shampoo. Maybe itching powder in his boxers. All the pranks he and his brothers used to play. 

“Listen, I'm renting a car and a bunch of us are heading out to Nauset Beach on Cape Cod this Saturday. You in?” Tam looks at both of them, his voice clearly conveying that this is his attempt at making peace. Scott can see the way his eyes linger on Tessa though. The lyrics from  _Roxanne_ floating unbidden through his mind,  _"His eyes upon your face..."_

“The beach?” Tessa’s whole body practically lights up and radiates excitement. “Definitely count me in. Scott?” She looks at him with a pleading smile – one that Scott knows he’ll never have the power to refuse.

“Sure, T. A day at the beach sounds fun.”

 

* * *

 

Yes, a day at the beach had sounded fun  _in theory_ , but that was before Scott had to spend the entire ride sandwiched between Kyle and Ricky, who had decided it was the perfect time to discuss who had the best ass on Broadway.

Tessa, Holly, and Robyn were riding in the very back of the van and would occasionally chime in with their opinions (well, Holly and Robyn did. Tessa said she already knew the answer but refused to share who it was).

“I’m offended none of you have said it’s me.” Jeigh whines from the front seat. “I have a great ass. I mean, I’m one of the Diamond Dogs – that definitely says something. I wouldn't have gotten the role if they didn't consider all of my  _ass_ ets.”

“By that rule Robyn and I have some of the best asses as well then.” Holly chimes in with a laugh. “Yours is pretty good though, lad, don’t worry.”

“My vote is Scott.” Robyn shouts out, and Scott feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He suspects Robyn  _likes_  him, and he’s not sure what to do about it. “He has a  _great_ ass.”

Yeah, Scott would rather be anywhere else.

 

 

Anywhere else, that is, until they arrive and set up the big beach umbrellas and the girls start stripping off their clothes down to their bikinis underneath. Then his brain just becomes an endless litany of  _Tessa Tessa Tessa_.

Tessa in a bikini.

Tessa in a  _strapless_  white bikini with pink polka-dots.

Tessa with a bellybutton piercing!

Tessa in a bikini holding out a bottle of sunscreen and asking, “Can you do my back?”

The only thing keeping him from spontaneously combusting is that she hasn’t taken off her denim shorts yet.

Having lost all power of speech, he wordlessly takes the bottle from her with a nod. She turns around and then it’s just miles of pale skin on display and he desperately wishes that he could touch her.

“Uh… are you gonna do it?” She asks awkwardly, and Scott realizes with a shock that he  _can_  touch her! She asked him to!

He squirts a glob of sunscreen on his hand – the smell of chemical-based piña coladas hitting his nose – and reaches out, tentatively beginning at the top of her shoulders before becoming bolder. Encouraged by the way she arches into his touch as he runs his hand down her spine.

He works his way down, down, down until he finally reaches the top of her shorts, letting his fingers skirt along the skin there in a move that definitely isn’t useful for applying sunscreen, but is useful for causing arousal. There’s a sharp inhale from Tessa and Scott smiles, pleased at her reaction.

It’s nice to know she’s as affected by this as he is.

“Will you do me?” He asks once he’d dropped his hands and she’d turned back around. Her eyes go wide for a second and he almost expects her to call him out on the innuendo, but instead she says  _yes_  in a quietly confident voice that makes his throat go dry.

The very idea that she might be saying yes to  _doing_  him is enough to have him half hard. Which he really hopes she won’t notice because that would be a nightmare to try and explain.

His situation doesn’t improve when her hands begin moving across his shoulders – methodically at first, but then slowing down. Grazing across his skin. No pretense at putting on lotion anymore, just indulging in touching him. Scott knows it, but he lets her continue anyway. If Tessa wants to touch him then he willingly gives her carte blanch to do so. 

She traces a patch of skin above his right hip with her finger, seemingly getting distracted by that specific spot.

“Uh, Virtch? What are you doing?” He means for it to sound humorous, their regularly scheduled program of teasing each other, but his voice comes out thick and slow like molasses.

“Did you know you have a triangle of freckles here? It matches the one on your neck.” She sounds entranced and her finger hasn’t stopped tracing the pattern that he didn’t know existed and Scott’s about to have an above-average sized problem on his hands  _real_  fast.

He turns around and takes the instigator of the problem – her wandering hand – in his, bringing it up to kiss the back of her knuckles, and Tessa swallows audibly.

Scott tries not to notice the way her nipples have become prominent in the thin fabric of her swim top, but he can’t help it. Her breathing has become more labored and it exaggerates everything going on in that  _region_.

He glides his lips from her knuckles to the tender underside of her wrist and she whimpers. A tiny sound that has his blood roaring in his ears and rewires all his neural pathways so that their only concern is getting her to make that sound again. Often.

“Oi! Scott! Tess! Come play volleyball!” The sound of Holly yelling breaks the spell and Tessa pulls her hand  away with a shaky breath.

“We should… join the others.”

“Whatever you want, T.” Scott whispers earnestly, and Tessa’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. His eyes follow the movement closely before meeting hers again.

“I want-“

“TESSA VIRTUE!” Holly calls out again, sounding like she’s only a second away from marching over there and dragging Tessa off in the direction of the net.

“Okay, now we really should go.” Tessa huffs out a laugh. “Come on.”

 

They split into two teams: Tam picks Tessa, Ricky, and Kyle for his team, leaving Holly to pick Scott, Robyn, and Jeigh. What begins as a fun game between friends quickly devolves into a serious competition as Holly's team starts winning. Tessa gets this little crease between her eyebrows and really throws herself into it and soon moves her team into the lead. 

Scott isn’t surprised to discover that Tessa is fiercely competitive. She's stubborn on a good day. He can't resist rising to meet the challenge though, smirking at her and shouting taunts that she volleys back as easily as she does the ball. It doesn't take long before the game turns into a battle of wills between the two of them. He might be taller and stronger, but she’s much faster and more agile. The score stays neck and neck for most of the entire first game, only becoming uneven whenever one of the other players gets a hand on the ball.

"Twenty-one!" Robyn cheers from the back line. "Twenty-one to nineteen! We win!" She high fives everybody, holding onto Scott's hand a little longer than he thinks she  _really_ needed to. 

"Rematch. Best out of three." Tessa stands at the net, giving him the stink-eye. 

"Face it, Virtch. You lost." He grins at her, but she doesn't return it. 

"Scared you'll lose, Moir?" 

"No." He laughs. "If you want to go another round, then let's do it." 

"Good. We'll serve first." 

Their friends all shrug around them and move back into position, and it's clear that this time Tessa is out for blood. She dodges and ducks and weaves and calls out commands that would rival a general on a battlefield, and before Scott can wrap his head around the faster pace her team has won twenty-one to thirteen. 

"Now we can play something else." Tessa states with a triumphant grin, bumping hips with Tam.

"No way. You said best out of three. That means one more game." Scott's not sure why he isn't letting this go, only that there's a special kind of fire in her eyes during the heat of competition that he'd like to see more of. Even if it might end in a concussion for him from a rapidly flying volleyball. 

"Honestly, you'd think you two are the captains." Holly grumbles as she retrieves the ball from the sand. "Let's get this weird foreplay over with." 

Scott's pretty sure he's the only one who heard her last comment, but his ears turn red anyway and he completely misses the first serve. 

"One-Nothing." 

 

Forty-five minutes later, everyone sweaty and exhausted, Jeigh misses a return and the ball lands in the sand with a sad, defeated thud (even the inanimate object sounds tired from the abuse), and Tessa's team jumps in the air with loud shouts of victory. Kyle retrieves four beers from one of the coolers and passes them around to his teammates. On the count of three they pop the tabs and yell, "Cheers!" before all taking deep gulps. 

Ricky breaks out in song, as he is apt to do, and soon the other three join in. "We are the champions my friends, and we'll keep on fighting 'til the end! We are the champions! We are the champions! No time for losers-"

"That's you, Moir!" Tessa taunts and it's the last straw.  

“Oh that’s  _it_!” Scott yells, barreling into her and throwing her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing more than a feather.

“Scott!” She shrieks, “What are you doing!? Put me down!” She kicks and squirms, trying to break free, but Scott clamps down on her thighs with his arm to limit her movement as he marches towards his destination. 

“No way, Virtch. I think we need to cool that hot head of yours.”

“Don’t you dare. I will murder you.” 

He feels her hand skating down his back and for one brief moment he wonders if she's going to grab his ass, but then he feels a sharp pinch on his hip.

“Ow!" He cries out, nearly dropping her - which was definitely her intention based on her disappointed grumbling when he doesn't. "You can't kill me. I'm stronger than you, I'd fight you off.” He replies comfortably, rubbing at his side with his free hand. The water splashes loudly around his calves as he starts wading into the ocean.

“SCOTT.”

“Sorry, kiddo. This is what happens to sore winners. I don't make the rules.” But he’s not sorry at all and as soon as he's in up to his waist he unceremoniously dumps her in the water.

She comes up spluttering, wiping the water from her eyes and glaring at him. “You are dead, Moir!”

And he seriously underestimated how strong she is because one moment he’s standing and the next she’s kicked his legs out from under him and pulled him down under and it’s his turn to swallow a mouthful of salt-water. When he returns to the surface her head is thrown back and her hands cover her stomach as she laughs loud and bright. 

Scott laughs with her, both of them sounding carefree and joyous in the afternoon sun. Looking back, he can't remember a time that he was ever this happy. Watching her like this, the sunlight turning her hair a warmer shade of mahogany and dancing across her skin, he's struck by the memory of a quote he read once - probably on his sister-in-law's fridge or something:  _“Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”_

"Truce then?" He finally asks after their laughter has died down and they're left staring at each other like grinning idiots. 

"Hmmm..." She raises a finger to her mouth, cocking her head coquettishly as she ponders her answer. "No." She shoves his shoulders down without warning before turning to run away and he barely manages to keep his head above the water.

"Oh you're gonna pay for that one, T!" 

The thing about water is, you can't exactly run through it, and despite her headstart Scott's longer legs means he catches up easily. As soon as he reaches out for her though, his foot gets tangled in some loose seaweed and he goes down - taking Tessa with him. 

They end up a laughing, crazy-looking pile of limbs, with Tessa looking half-deranged trying to get the sand out of her mouth and Scott struggling to kick his leg free of the offending slippery green deathtrap. It isn't until he manages to break free that he realizes he and Tessa landed in a tangled heap  _together_  - with their bodies pressed up close from shoulder to knee. And with him being shirtless and her in only a bikini top and shorts, well... it's a lot of skin on skin contact that Scott had not mentally prepared himself for.

She looks so kissable right now. Her cheeks slightly red with the beginnings of a sunburn, her eyes a light spring green in the sunlight. But it's her lips that have captured his attention, and he can't seem to look away. Pale pink and oh so close to his. All it would take is the slightest movement forward and he'd be there. 

"Did you know The MPAA banned photos of the famous passionate kiss on the beach in  _From Here to Eternity_  for being too erotic? Many prints shown in theatres had shortened versions of the scene because projectionists would cut out frames to keep as souvenirs." 

Scott blinks and looks up to find Holly standing above them, hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised in a perfect judgmental arch. 

"Personally I think they were a bunch of prudes, myself, so if a reenactment is what you're planning then go right ahead. The world needs more eroticism, just  _maybe_  not on a beach full of kids." 

Tessa flops down on her back with a little disbelieving chuckle. "You're the worst, Holly."

"You love me, sweetheart. Let's go get some food." 

Scott watches as Tessa rolls away from him and walks off with Holly towards the Snack Shack. He can't bring himself to move from his current spot just yet. He's seen the movie, and he knows he and Tessa could give Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr a run for their money. 

Eventually he makes he way back to the group up higher on the beach, discovering that they'd moved onto playing soccer. 

"Scott, you gonna play?" Robyn asks hopefully, looking like the spitting image of a pin-up doll with her blonde hair and bright red bikini. She's not Scott's type at all. 

"Hang on, Scott can only play if Tessa  _doesn't_." Jeigh says and everyone laughs. 

"Tessa's over there talking to Tam." Robyn replies, blowing a giant bubble with her gum and popping it loudly. Scott follows where she points, disappointed to see that, yes, Tessa does seem to be sitting alone on the dunes with Tam having what looks like a serious conversation. 

"Yeah, I'll play." He likes soccer, and it will be a good distraction from whatever is going on  _over there_. 

 

In hindsight, trying to slide tackle on sand was not his smartest decision. One, because you can't really slide on sand, and two, because there had been a chipped seashell buried just out of sight that has done a number on the side of his leg. He's not proud of the words he'd shouted as he looked down to find blood streaming from the wound. 

Tessa had run over immediately, abandoning whatever her conversation was and dropping to her knees by his side. "Oh my God, Scott. Are you alright? Did you break anything?" 

Now he's propped up under one of the umbrellas being nursed by Tessa  _again_  while everyone else roasts s'mores. 

"I can't believe you brought a first-aid kit." He says as he watches her clean the cut, which isn't actually so bad when the blood isn't turning it into a scene from  _The Shining_ , and apply antiseptic. 

"Always be prepared. I may not be very good with illnesses, but I can find my way around a scratch. No child of Jim and Kate Virtue goes on a vacation without one - mostly because Kevin and Casey could never go anywhere without getting into trouble." She shakes her head in a way that implies  _boys_  with an eye-roll and Scott laughs - followed by a sharp intake of breath at the stinging the antiseptic causes. "Sorry." 

"It's fine. Kevin and Casey are your brothers?" 

"Yeah, my older brothers." Tessa nods, unwrapping five band-aids and placing them over the cut in a row. 

"They sound like me and my brothers, Danny and Charlie. I think my mom ended up taking at least one of us to the emergency room once or twice a month for a while there when we were young." Scott chuckles, twisting to look at her handiwork and giving her a thumbs-up in approval. 

"When I have kids, I'm only having girls." Tessa states confidently and Scott laughs harder. 

"Oh you are, eh? How will you manage that?" 

"Well... somehow. Sheer willpower, if I have to." 

"You know, somehow I believe it." Scott shakes his head and Tessa shoves his shoulder. 

"I think you'll live. Want me to bring you a s'more?" 

"Yes please!" 

He watches the other people milling about the beach while he waits for Tessa. Young families, elderly couples, teenagers here to have fun. It makes him miss his own family with a longing pang in his heart. What he wouldn't give to have them living closer. He does the mental math real fast, calculating that it's eleven more days until the planned opening of the show, which his family is all going to attend. He can't wait to introduce them to Tessa. 

She comes walking back over, carefully balancing a paper plate full of s'mores. 

"Jeez, Tess. Are you feeding an army?" 

"Well, if that's what you call yourself, I guess." She shoots back, plopping down on the sand beside him and putting the plate on the ground between them. Scott wastes no time biting into one of the delicious treats, but is quickly distracted by Tessa licking marshmallow off her fingers from where it had leaked out of her own s'more.  _Fuck, she's going to be the death of me today_ , he thinks before shaking his head back and forth to try and clear it. 

"Are you okay? You look like a dog." Tessa's looking at him like he's being weird, which he is, so he ignores the question. 

"You and Tam looked cozy earlier." God, he really hopes he sounds casual. But probably based on the look Tessa's giving him, like he's gotten even  _weirder_ , he is failing. 

"We were talking about a book." She says slowly, before turning her head to face the horizon. "And... we were talking about us. Me and him. Holly may have mentioned that flirting with you in front of him was insensitive, so I talked to him about it. He asked me out for real and I made it clear that I only liked him as a friend." She stares at the ocean while she talks, her hands folded in close to her chest - smushed between her sternum and her bent knees - and Scott wonders what's going on in her head, because his own head is currently exploding in celebratory fireworks at what she's told him. Slowly she turns to look in his eyes. "Scott..." 

"Yeah?" 

"There's... something here, right?" Her cheeks are pink, and she sounds nervous, but she maintains eye contact and Scott thinks ravenous wolves couldn't force him to look away. 

"Yeah." He whispers with a lopsided smile. 

"Good." 

She drops her hands from her lap, relaxing now that she's gotten her question out of the way - and received the answer she apparently wanted - and Scott reaches out to tangle his fingers with hers, smiling softly at her when she squeezes his hand. 

Yeah, rules are definitely meant to be broken. 

 


	10. But My Smile Still Stays On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance for the end...

** Chapter 10: But My Smile Still Stays On **

****

You’d be hard pressed to find a more serene place at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning than Boston Public Garden. Before moving to the city, Tessa had done a lot of research – learning that the park was located in the heart of Boston, that it’s home to the _Make Way for Ducklings_ statue, and that it was the first public botanical garden in America. But reading about a place is not the same as experiencing it firsthand, and that Sunday morning the park was particularly lovely.

 

The sun filters through the leaves of the trees – beech, elm, oak, maple, and weeping willows - as well as many other varieties that Tessa doesn’t recognize. The pond is calm and tranquil, reflecting the morning light like a perfect mirror. Ducks and swans swim in idle circles, as if still in the process of waking up themselves – content to be lazy.

The only sounds are the birds chirping happily in the branches above and the occasional fellow jogger waving as they run past her.

Tessa loves it. She’d loved it the moment she arrived and she loves it more still with every passing day. It soothes the part of her that longs for the rolling hills and wide open spaces of Ontario in a way that Central Park, for all its beauty, never could. Even though it isn’t very big, there’s something that still feels _old_ here in the quiet mornings. A feeling that can only be captured for a moment between the dawn and the city coming to life.

Later that day the park will be overrun with teenagers and tourists and street performers, but right now, like this, Tessa feels at peace.

 

This particular morning she’d actually found the motivation to get up early and go for a run – still feeling the lingering after-effects of her day at the beach yesterday (she’s never been so physically active as she is now, working off all the _feelings_ Scott inspires in her).

As she rounds the corner of the path, passing one particularly giant willow tree, she comes across a familiar silhouette and stops in surprise.

Scott stands there quietly, humming something unrecognizable, and leaning over the edge of the water. He's surrounded by an alarming amount of ducks and ducklings, and Tessa watches as he reaches into the pocket of his gym shorts and pulls out a handful of something – tossing it to the ducks who go crazy in response.

“Good morning.” She greets him, making sure not to talk too loudly and scare his little congregation away.

“Tess!” Scott’s own voice, however, crying out in surprise, does send a few of the birds scuttling back towards safer territory in the middle of the pond. “Good morning!”

“You know, you’re actually not supposed to feed ducks bread anymore. It’s bad for them.” She can't resist the lecture - what if some of the birds die?

Scott reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag, holding it high so that she can see it’s clearly labeled _Duck Food_.

“Oh.” She replies dumbly. She should have guessed Scott would come prepared.

“Yeah, oh.” He grins, replacing the bag and walking over to join her on the path. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Same as you, apparently.” Tessa gestures to his t-shirt and shorts, before pointing at her own sports bra and leggings. A matching set from Adidas that she loves and knows looks good on her. “Got to keep healthy if I want to fit into those corsets Catherine has designed for me.”

Scott, who had just lifted his water bottle to his mouth, chokes loudly - his face turning an alarming shade of red.

“Are you okay?” Tessa jumps in, patting his back in concern.

“Yeah, yeah.” He wheezes, “What, er… what kind of corsets?”

“The uncomfortable kind?” Tessa replies a little sarcastically. “There’s a sparkly white one that’s part of my costume for the opening number, a black one with a long sheer lacy skirt, a pink one with a matching robe. All sorts. You’ll see them all when we start dress rehearsals later this week.”

“I look forward to it.”

Tessa arches an eyebrow at him, and he blushes when he realizes what he said. She can’t help but giggle at the look of horror on his face – like he’s said too much and given away a secret. 

“That came out wrong.”

“Did it?” She teases, and he ducks his head before rapidly changing the subject.

“What are your plans today, since it's our day off?”  

Tessa shrugs, fully intending to spend her day relaxing. “I don’t have any plans. Catch up on my summer reading list, call my sister.”

“The Red Sox are playing the Mariners.” He looks up at her, his voice lilting in a nervously hopeful way. “I know it’s not the Blue Jays, but do you want to go? With me?”

“Like a date?” She asks, excitement simmering under the surface of her skin that she tries to keep from bubbling over.

“Yeah, like a date.” Scott runs his hand through his unkempt hair, looking somehow both bashful and confident at the same time.

“Yes. I would like that very much.”

“Good. Me too.” They stand there grinning at each other until finally Scott tacks on, “I guess we’d better finish our runs before it gets too hot. The game is at two, so I’ll pick you up at your apartment at say, one thirty?”

“Sounds perfect. See you then.”

 

Tessa doesn't bother finishing her run, instead opting to head straight back to her apartment to shower and find a suitable outfit. Something first date material, without looking like she's trying too hard. It is a baseball game, after-all, she can't exactly show up in a cocktail dress. 

After a shower and five attempts at different outfits, she finally FaceTime's Jordan for help.

"What's up, Tess?" Jordan asks with a smile before taking a bite of her salad, clearly in the middle of eating lunch - her phone propped up on the table across from her. 

"I'm having a crisis." 

"What kind? Like, a put down your fork and listen kind, or a hyperbolic  _this isn't really as big of an issue_ _as I'm making it out to be_ kind?" 

Tessa thinks about it for a moment, trying to look at it from an outside perspective (to her it's definitely the first kind). "The second one, probably, to you." 

"Okay, I'm listening." Jordan pops a crouton in her mouth and gestures for Tessa to explain. 

"I need your amazing fashion advice. I don't know what to wear." 

"To what? What's the outfit for?" 

"To the Red Sox game." 

" _Baseball_? God, Tess, just wear jeans and a t-shirt. What's the big deal? It's not like it's the Blue Jays, it's just crappy Boston." 

"A Red Sox game... with Scott." Tessa adds, cringing as she waits for Jordan's response. After months of denying anything happening between them, she knows Jordan is going to have something to say about this.

Jordan drops her fork with a loud clatter, not even bothering to watch as it falls off the table and onto the floor. "With Scott  _like a date?!"_

"... If I say yes do you promise not to tell Mom?" 

Jordan squeals and claps her hands together. "Finally! Oh my God, it's happening! Okay, I see the problem now. You've got to look casual, but cute. Always a fine line. Take me to your closet."

"I'm so glad I have you." Tessa says with a grateful laugh, taking her phone into the bedroom so that Jordan can survey the options. 

"I know you are. Now, I'm thinking that denim skirt you have... and maybe a plain white t-shirt, but a fitted one! And some white sneakers. It's casual, but the skirt also makes it a little more feminine and shows off your amazing legs. And add a cute purse to dress it up a little." 

"Seriously, what would I do without you?" 

"Probably dress like a hag and never get any dates." Jordan teases. "With Broadway stars. Who you love."  

"Wow would you look at the time." Tessa rushes to cut her off before she can say anything else embarrassing. "I've gotta run. He'll be here soon and I've still got to figure out my hair. Thanks, Jojo!" 

"Anytime, babe!" 

Tessa throws on Jordan's suggested outfit, pleased to discover that it does straddle the line between flirty and casual, and heads to the bathroom to figure out what to do with her dark tresses. It's too hot to leave her hair down - especially if they end up sitting in the sun - but she does ponytails so often, she wants to try something new. 

After watching a few tutorials on YouTube by some girl running an account called The Hair Gypsy, Tessa settles on space buns. It takes three tries to get them even, but when she finally succeeds the effect is cute and fun. 

 

"Hey, Virtch. You look great." Tessa opens her door to find Scott holding up a single red rose for her to take, the bud of the flower not yet bloomed, and she smiles as she lifts it up to her nose and takes a quick sniff. 

"Thank you." 

"The lady at the shop told me this was a good first date choice. I didn't realize so much could be said with just a flower." He sounds genuinely surprised, and Tessa is full of curiosity regarding his choice. 

"Oh? And what does a red rose say?" 

"A red rose  _bud_ ," He emphasizes, "Apparently means innocence and the promise of the future, as well as the purity of the present." 

Is it acceptable to kiss a date  _before_ you've even left the house? Because that's all Tessa wants to do right now. He's standing there in his red maple leaf t-shirt, all hopeful smiles and warm brown eyes, making sure to bring her flowers with _meanings_ , and Tessa couldn't care less about baseball in this moment.

"So... should we go?" 

For one long moment she contemplates grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him inside, but she wants this to mean more - wants to go on dates with him and hold hands and experience every bit of the romance - so she shakes her head clear of the idea (storing it away to use as fantasy fodder later) and follows him out of the building. 

 

\-------

 

 

It's the bottom of the fifth, the Sox are up six to two, and Tessa's stomach is comfortably full of soda, chips, and a hot dog. Scott's arm is slung over the back of her chair, every once in a while moving to squeeze her shoulder when he leans over to talk to her, and overall Tessa thinks it's probably one of the best games she's ever been to. 

The umpire calls one of Boston's players out and Scott shoots up out of his chair, "Come on, are you kidding me? Wake up!" 

Tessa wishes she could say that was the first time, but apparently behind all of his jokes Scott cares  _very_ _much_ about baseball. Even if it's not his beloved Detroit Tigers. 

"Is this how you behave watching hockey too?" She leans over to ask once he's sat back down. 

"Oh no, hockey makes me way worse." He jokes with a lopsided grin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's the moment you've all been waiting for!" A voice yells out through the speakers. "Please direct your attention to the main screen!" 

Tessa and Scott both look over as directed, just as the song Kiss by Prince starts playing and the "Kiss Cam!" frame pops up around the screen. She only half pays attention, too distracted by listening to Scott's continued halfhearted grumblings about the umpire's bad call, when the camera lands on them. She looks up just in time to see it, and goes bright red. This was not how she had anticipated their first kiss happening. She glances over at Scott to find that he's seen it too, and is already smiling reassuringly at her.

_You don't have to be rich_   
_To be my girl_   
_You don't have to be cool_   
_To rule my world_   
_Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with_   
_I just want your extra time and your_

 

_Kiss_

He brings up a hand to hold the side of her head – his thumb caressing her cheek – and her eyelids flutter closed of their own accord as he leans forward.

Only to open in surprise and disappointment when his lips land on the corner of her mouth.

“What-?”

The camera and the audience have moved on, but Tessa is still frozen under his gaze, feeling a little hurt and very confused.

“We’re going to have to kiss in front of an audience every night for two months. I want our first kiss to be between us.” He whispers, his thumb still stroking her cheekbone, and Tessa falls a little bit in love with him right then and there. 

If it were physically possible, she would melt into a pile of goo. She doesn’t know if it’s from years of being on the stage, or just his personality, but sometimes she thinks that Scott is a walking hero straight out of a romance novel. 

His attention is easily diverted by the Sox scoring another run, but Tessa needs something a little better to stop herself from obsessing over kissing him, so she pulls out her phone and opens Instagram, checking the notifications from the picture she'd posted earlier. 

 

 Laughing at the comments, she leans over to show him the one after his, "Look, Jordan says we're banned from going back home now." 

"Are we? Guess we'll have to live here then." He chuckles before singing a line from the musical, " _I'd buy a big house where we both could live,_ " and Tessa keeps the sudden image of the two of them in a cute little brownstone together to herself. That is moving  _way_ too fast - even if the picture it paints is pretty nice. 

 

\-------

 

The game ends with the Red Sox beating the Mariners nine to three and Scott practically bounces with satisfaction as they leave the stadium. There's nothing quite like the pride people take in their sports teams - evident by the loud cheers and general celebratory atmosphere - and Tessa can feel it infecting both of them like some kind of high. 

Or maybe that's just Scott's presence beside her. Either way, she's incredibly happy.  

They follow the crowd to the subway, hopping on the green line to head back home. 

"Do you maybe want to walk for a little bit?" Scott asks after the train gets moving. "Instead of heading straight back?" 

Tessa nods, not wanting the day to end. "I love to." 

They get off the T near Boston Common, and as they venture out into the evening Scott takes her hand in his – naturally catching it on an upward swing and looping his index finger around her pinky. It should feel weird, it’s certainly unusual, but in practice it feels… personal. Precious.  _Perfect_. 

“Ice cream?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence between them. 

“What?”

He lifts their joined hands and points to the row of food trucks parked in the Common – one of which is bright blue and says Cookie Monstah on the side. It already looks promising just based on the logo, and the long line tells Tessa all she needs to know.

“Is that cookies and ice cream, or is it heaven?” Tessa jokes before tugging on Scott's hand, forcing him to walk faster, and he laughs.

 

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Tessa moans as the chocolate ice cream hits her tongue. “And this is probably the best cookie I’ve ever had. I want to marry this food truck and have its babies and then grow old together and die in each other's arms.”

Scott laughs loudly, nearly dropping his simple waffle cone with vanilla ice cream. "Can I be the officiant? I'd love to stand in front and watch people's faces while you marry a _truck_." 

Tessa laughs, but it quickly turns into a smothered moan as Scott takes a long, sweeping pass with his tongue across the creamy surface of his own sugary treat – a sight that leaves Tessa squirming in her seat and aching. Does he _have_ to look right at her while he does that? _Is he doing it on purpose_?

She ducks her head, unable to maintain eye contact (her brain flooding with lewd thoughts) and dips her cookie in the ice cream - taking a big bite in an attempt to cool down her raging hormones, probably making a mess in the process.

Sure enough, Scott says, “You’ve got some on your chin. Here.” He reaches up and wipes just underneath her bottom lip with his thumb, and Tessa nearly dies on the spot when, instead of using a perfectly good napkin, he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it off. “You’re right. That is delicious.”

Her control snaps.

Tessa reaches out and grabs the back of his neck, pulling him down as she surges forward. Finally, _finally_ , pressing her lips to his like she’s been aching to do for months.

And that’s how their first kiss happens – at 5:43 p.m. standing in the middle of the sidewalk in between the tennis courts and the Central Burying Ground in Boston Common - and it's complete perfection.

Tessa can hear the Hallelujah chorus singing loudly in the back of her mind as she loses herself in the kiss. Scott’s lips are soft and he tastes like vanilla and waffle cones. It blends well with her own chocolate mouth and she swirls her tongue around his. His arms move up to wrap around her, but then pulls back suddenly.

“Hang on.” He looks around frantically. “Ah ha!” _Oh,_  Tessa realizes as she watches him, her brain struggling to keep up, _he was looking for a trash can_. Scott jogs over and drops his half-eaten ice cream into the black container before practically running back to her side. “That’s better. Where were we?”

She grins. “Just about _here_ I think.” Tilting her chin up, she meets him halfway again as he leans down to resume kissing her – this time free to wrap his arms around her and haul her in close.

Her own hand winds through his hair, the other still carefully holding her bowl of ice cream (it's too yummy to waste!) and she lets herself get swept up in their make-out session. It’s completely juvenile and she loves every minute of it. Pressed together from thighs to chest and utterly oblivious to the disgruntled people glaring as they’re forced to walk around them.

It takes a teenager shouting, “Get a room!” for them to finally break apart for air.

Tessa’s chest is heaving and her ears are ringing and she feels like glitter-confetti exploded in her bloodstream. "Wow." She breathes, and Scott smiles so widely that the corners of his eyes get all crinkly. 

"Couldn't have said it better myself." 

 

They walk slowly back to their apartment building, hands linked together and occasionally stopping to steal more kisses, until finally they arrive at Tessa's front door. 

She wonders if she's supposed to invite him in now. It's not that she doesn't want to (she does), it's just that the last time she tried that he'd rejected her and they had stopped speaking. 

Her mouth opens to say something. To take the plunge and make the move. But Scott gets there before her. 

“I’m going to be a gentleman and leave you here now with one last kiss,” He leans forward, pressing his mouth to hers so lightly and so quickly that she doesn't have a chance to really respond. To try and convince him to stay.

She pouts in disappointment and Scott plucks at her lower lip with his thumb and smiles softly. “I had a really nice time today, Tessa Virtue. May I see you again?”

“Yes, Scott Moir, you may.” She copies his oddly formal voice and they both laugh. 

He leans in close and Tessa hopes he's going to kiss her again.

"Buenas Noches." He whispers, and Tessa understands immediately. 

"It's too early for noches. Buenas Tardes." 

He grins, pleased that she understood the reference. 

"Buenas Tardes, Tessa." 

He steals another kiss, like he just can't help himself, before turning around and disappearing down the hall humming to himself. Tessa just barely manages to recognize the sounds of  _Maria_ as the doors of the elevator close. 

When she sits down to watch  _West Side Story_ later (yes, the one he starred in. Yes, she has a bootleg copy), she gets a notification that he'd tagged her in a post.

She can't resist replying to his caption, and she hopes he'll understand the deeper meaning behind it. 

Nirvana indeed. 

 

* * *

 

 

Scott buries his face in her neck, alternating between biting and sucking at the skin there. Working marks over her pulse that will be difficult, if not impossible, to hide. But Tessa doesn’t care. She wants him to mark her. Wants to be his.

She arches up into him, her body so incredibly responsive to his every touch, as his hand roams slowly down her body – over her breasts, skimming her stomach, moving towards its ultimate destination.

Spreading her legs to give him more room, she whimpers at the feeling of his hands slipping under the waistband of her pajamas. 

“Scott…” She moans as his fingers move  _down down down_ -

 

A phone starts ringing loudly in the darkness, it's angry tones totally ruining the mood. With a heavy, regretful sigh Tessa removes her hand from her underwear and rolls over to reach her nightstand - where her ringing phone is plugged in to charge. She doesn't bother to check who's calling or answer it, instead sending it to voicemail before flopping onto her back and opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling of her empty bedroom.

She only feels moderately guilty about what she’d been doing. It wasn’t as if she _meant_ to get herself off to fantasies of Scott, but he’d started it! Couch cuddles, innuendo, flirting, pretty much everything that had happened at the beach on Saturday, and then their perfect first kiss yesterday? She’s been so keyed up that the only thing keeping her from losing all restraint, marching downstairs, and throwing herself at him is her daydreams and her fingers.

It’s been less than twelve hours since he left her on her doorstep, and Tessa has already made herself come three times to thoughts of him. If their relationship doesn’t begin to progress a little quicker, she might just be the first person to die of sexual frustration. How would the mortician explain that one? "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Virtue, but her body just couldn't handle that kind of constant state of arousal." 

She snorts at the image in her head of a somber man in a lab coat trying to console her parents - weeping from embarrassment instead of grief. 

The phone starts ringing again, and Tessa grumbles loudly before rolling over to answer it.

“Did you hear the news?” Holly asks urgently as soon as Tessa accepts the call.

“No?”

“Some scaffolding fell at the Emerson last night. We aren’t going to be able to open the show on the twenty-seventh.”

“What!?” Tessa sits up, clutching her phone and trying to comprehend what Holly is saying.

“Didn’t you get Alex’s texts? What have you been doing this morning?” There's a slight chastising tone to Holly's voice, and Tessa rushes to come up with an excuse. 

“Um… sleeping in. It was an accident. I’ll check them now.”

She opens up her messages to find a bunch of missed ones in the MR Group Chat. Scrolling past all the various ones from people freaking out, she finds Alex’s original texts from about an hour ago.

 

**Alex:** Just received notice that some of the scaffolding collapsed last night at the Emerson. No one was hurt and our sets weren’t damaged, but construction will be delayed.

 

**Alex:** All they’ve said so far is that we won’t be up and running by the 27th. Trying to get info on new opening date ASAP.

 

**Alex:** Just heard from Bill Damaschke. New opening will be July 10.

 

**Danny:** What does this mean for rehearsals?

 

**Alex:** We’ll talk about it when you all get here this morning.

 

"Oh my God." Tessa says after lifting the phone back to her ear. "I'm so glad nobody was hurt." 

"Me too. We've got to be at the warehouse in fifteen minutes though, so I'd suggest getting your sweet ass out of bed posthaste." 

"I know, I know. I'm on my way."  

 

 

Scott finds her as soon as she walks into the warehouse, smiling softly and looking at her so affectionately that it turns her brain to mush and she forgets for a second why she’s there and that there’s a crisis going on.

“Hi.” He says quietly, bumping her hand with his.

“Hi back.” She giggles, wishing she could kiss him. Their relationship (is it a relationship? They never said. Oh God,  _what if yesterday was just a fling_?!) is still so new that Tessa has no idea how to behave in front of the rest of the cast. 

"Did you sleep well?" 

That shuts her right up as she turns so red that when she ducks her head in embarrassment she can see the blush spreading down her chest and under her tank top. "It was fine." She manages to cough out, refusing to look at Scott who's watching her like she's being a complete weirdo (she is). 

Worse though, after an awkward moment understanding seems to dawn on his face and then it's his turn to blush. "Oh, uh, me too." 

_Is he seriously confessing that he-_

"Good morning everybody." Alex says, sounding bleak and exhausted. He's followed closely behind by Bill who looks only moderately more put together. 

"Listen up, guys." Bill begins right away, not one for small talk, "I know Alex told you what happened. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, this really fucking sucks. We've got tickets to refund, press events to reschedule, investors that are panicking, but I don't want any of you to worry about that. All you need to worry about is being  _perfect_ for our new opening night on July tenth. Alright?" 

Everyone makes varying sounds of understanding and agreement, and Bill gives them a terse smile before turning to say goodbye to Alex and heading out the door. 

"You heard the man. We need to be perfect. Let's go!" 

 

 

Rehearsals go long and everyone ends up exhausted, but they all gave one hundred and ten percent and Tessa's never felt prouder to be part of a cast. Everyone understands just how important the show is, and the setback has only seemed to light the fire under them more. 

"I hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt." Holly groans as she walks over to the side of the room with Tessa where their bags are.

"Tell me about it. I'm going straight home and getting in the bath." 

"Alone?" Holly smirks. 

" _Yes_ alone. Of course alone." Tessa replies, probably a little too quickly to be completely innocent. 

"Hmmm... It's just, I thought I noticed a  _vibe_ coming off you and Scott all day." Her eyes are a little too knowing, and Tessa is distinctly aware that they are not alone. Ricky, Kyle, and Jeigh all stand somewhere behind her and she doesn't know just how much they can hear. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. We're friends. Business partners. We're like bandmates." 

Holly throws her head back, laughing loudly. "Oh, Tess." She just shakes her head, shoulders still rolling as her laughter continues. " _Bandmates_." She wipes at her eye where legitimate TEARS have started forming, and Tessa stomps her foot and glares at her friend. 

"Stop making fun of me." 

"Sorry, sorry. I just - that idea is so ridiculous I thought for sure you were having a laugh." 

"Well, it's true." 

"Okay, Tess." Holly pats her condescendingly on the head. "Bandmates still fuck sometimes." 

She starts walking towards the hallway to leave and Tessa chases after her. "We are not fuc-" 

She practically slams into Holly's back where she's stopped in the middle of her stride. "What are you-"

And then she sees it. The thing that has Holly frozen in horror. 

Scott and Robyn. 

Scott kissing Robyn. 

There's a sudden churning, heaving, sensation in her stomach. "Oh God. I'm gonna be sick." 

Tessa can hear voices calling after her - Holly's and Scott's - but she doesn't stop. She can be fast when she wants to be, faster than anyone would expect, and it takes her less than two minutes to dodge between the pedestrians and in and out of traffic and reach her apartment building. 

Bursting into the lobby, she's brought to a standstill by the sight of the last person she'd expected. 

" _Jordan?"_

"Hi, Sis! Surprise!" 

It takes Tessa a moment to register that she's not hallucinating, but then she throws herself into her sister's waiting arms.  

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Best surprise ever!”

“Uh oh. I know that voice. Let’s go get dinner and you can tell me what's wrong.”

“I love you so much.”

Jordan loops Tessa's arm through her own and leads her from the building, leaving her suitcase behind with the receptionist - a burly man named Joey that she'd charmed the moment she'd walked up to his desk. 

"I love you too, Comtesse de Lancre" She uses the old nickname from when they were kids and obsessed with  _Ever After_ , and it helps ease Tessa's breaking heart. "Talk while we walk. What had you running so fast?" 

"Scott." She replies with a heavy sigh, voice shaking with unshed tears. 

"Oh dear. Tell me all about it." 

_Thank God for sisters._

 

 


	11. Please Believe Me When I Say...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say sorry for the last chapter! Lol. Hopefully this one makes up for it and you'll all forgive me. ;)

** Chapter 11: Please Believe Me When I Say… **

****

Once when Scott was eleven he had been traveling to hockey practice with a friend and their car got T-boned in an intersection. Nobody was seriously hurt, but Scott still distinctly remembers the weightless horror as his body was thrown to the side (thank God for seatbelts) in an instant that seemed at once both incredibly short and eons long.

Nothing had ever come close to that sensation until today – until hearing Tessa’s voice and watching her run away from him.

 

When rehearsal had ended Scott stepped out to run to the bathroom down the hall, thinking about asking Tessa if she wanted to go get dinner with him. Something they could pick up that would go with the nice wine he bought last week, maybe watch a movie, hopefully cuddle and kiss a little bit. 

But when he had exited the bathroom he'd been confronted by a petite blonde with a look in her eye that immediately set him on edge. Robyn started saying something about sex and stress relief and fuck if he knows what else because suddenly she was kissing him and sirens were going off in his brain screaming _wrong! Wrong! WRONG!_

He placed his hands on her shoulders to gently push her away – not wanting to be rude – when he heard Tessa’s reaction. He had torn himself from Robyn then, hoping to explain what was going on, but Tessa was already running out of the exit. 

Scott had chased after her, but damn she was fast! So much better than him at dodging people and cars, as evidenced by the fact that he had nearly been hit trying to follow her. Twice.

By the time he’d reached the lobby, Joey the receptionist informed him that she’d came and left already with another pretty brunette. Leaving Scott standing there alone and breathing like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. 

Everything had been going so well! And now Scott could see it all crumbling down around him. But he'd be damned if he didn't try to save it. To do anything and everything he could to talk to Tessa and make things right. 

 

Which is how Scott finds himself sitting in the hallway outside of Tessa’s door, typing and retyping his apology up on his phone while he waits for her to return home. He doesn't dare go back to his apartment and risk missing her, or her refusing to see him, so he grits his teeth and bears the discomfort. 

So far, though, he isn't having much luck coming up with something to say. 

 

~~Tessa, I know what you saw but it wasn’t what it looked like~~

~~Tess, it was just a kiss~~

~~Virtch, it was nothing!~~

~~I’m so in love with you, Tessa~~

 

Maybe it would be best not to start with that last one. No girl wants to be told you love her when she’s just seen you kissing someone else, even if it's true. Scott's old enough to recognize his feelings - he knows this isn't some infatuation. This relationship with Tessa is real and he's willing to fight tooth and nail for it - even if that means drafting cringe-worthy conversations. 

Eventually Scott gives up trying to write a script and just hopes that whatever he says in the moment will be the right choice. He hasn't exactly always had the best luck with that in the past, but maybe the universe will shine down on him tonight and bless him with inspiration. 

The minutes turn into hours as he loses feeling in his lower extremities from sitting on the cold cement floor, until finally he feels himself nodding off. That inescapable sensation when the eyelids become just too heavy and the mind succumbs to the will of body. His head drops to his chest and disappears into nightmares of can-can dancers and a Tessa who fades into mist whenever he tries to touch her. 

           

“Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

“How long do you think he’s been here?”

“Long enough to fall asleep, I guess. If we’re quiet do you think we can slip past him?”

Awareness comes slowly and then all at once as Scott registers the two female voices nearby – one that distinctly belongs to Tessa and the other sounding eerily similar to hers. He opens his eyes in a rush and looks up to find Tessa with her key already in the door – eyes red and puffy like she’s been crying recently.

He’d done that.

Guilt washes over him in a deluge of pain and he scrambles to stand up – nearly falling over due to his sleeping legs.

Tessa’s hand shoots out to steady him, before retreating like she’s been burned. The phrase _if looks could kill_ pops into mind, and Scott gulps audibly before finding the courage to speak.

“Tessa! You’re here.” He says, sounding like a complete idiot by pointing out the obvious. But he'd honestly started to give up hope of her returning tonight so the mere sight of her is enough to send his heart racing and make him forget coherent thought processes. 

“Yes. I _live_ here.” She says coolly, and Scott knows this isn’t going to be easy.

He tears his eyes away from her for a moment to look at the woman next to her currently glaring a hole through his face. Slightly taller than Tessa, but the same dark brown hair and similar facial features.

“You must be Jordan.” It’s obvious that they’re sisters, and Scott holds out his hand – wanting to make a good impression – “Hi, I’m-“

“Scott. Scott Moir. From Ilderton, Ontario.” Jordan doesn’t sound any warmer than Tessa did. "Tessa's told me all about you."

Scott drops his hand in shame. "Yeah, that's me." He turns back to the girl in question, determined not to let her go without at least talking to her for a minute. “Tessa, I need to talk to you. Please.”

She looks over at Jordan, an entire conversation passing between their eyes in a way that only close siblings or lifelong friends can do, and Scott can feel his chance slipping away. 

“Just give me five minutes to explain, T.” He pushes, feeling desperate.

“You can have one.” Tessa finally says, fixing him with an icy stare.

“I’ll wait inside.” Jordan gives Tessa a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder before taking over the task of unlocking the door and stepping inside. Scott waits for it to close before starting.

“Listen, Tess-“ He begins, reaching out for her hand and flinching when she steps back out of reach. 

“Forty-three.”

“What?” He pauses, utterly confused. 

“Seconds." She explains. "Now it’s forty-two.”

"You can’t be serious.”

"Thirty-nine.”

“Tessa, come on. Give me a chance here.”  

“Thirty-two. You’re wasting time.”

“Fine." Scott grits his teeth before opening his mouth and talking at high speed. "What you saw is not what it was. Robyn came onto me – ambushed, really. It wasn’t reciprocal, you just came in at exactly the wrong time – before I had the chance to push her away.”

“Ambushed.” Tessa says with a neutral face. “Because you’re just so irresistible?” The sarcasm practically drips from her voice.

“Yes!” Scott shouts, before realizing how conceited that sounds and hurrying to fix it, “I mean, no. I’m not, but yes she ambushed me. I swear!”

“Zero. Time’s up.” She turns away, hand landing on the doorknob, and Scott knows if he doesn’t fix this _now_  she may never give him another opportunity. His hand shoots out across the door, effectively cutting her off from leaving.

“Let me go, Scott.”

“No." He snaps back. "Tessa, I like you. A lot. These past few months getting to know you – laughing, talking, getting to witness your amazing talent every day – they’ve been the best ones of my life. I think you’re amazing. Witty and smart and kind and gorgeous. Yesterday was like a dream come true.”

He watches her closely, speaking emphatically from the heart, and he can see her hardened exterior beginning to soften.

“What you saw with Robyn was a misunderstanding. I wasn’t kissing her. I don’t _want_ to kiss her. The only person I want to kiss, is you. The only hand I want to hold, is yours.”

He drops his hand slowly from the door frame, moving it to cover hers where it rests on the handle, sighing in relief when she doesn’t pull away. He stays quiet, rubbing his thumb slowly along the back of her hand while she takes time to think – letting his words settle.

“She… _she_ kissed _you_?” Tessa finally asks in a small voice.

“Yes. It was entirely one-sided.” Scott rushes to reassure her.

“You like me.” It’s more of a statement to herself than a question, but Scott answers anyway.

“Yes. So, _so_ much.”

Finally Tessa turns to look at him, her mouth crooking up just a little. “I like you, too.”

He smiles back at her, the terror gripping his heart finally easing. Freed by the look in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, T. Both that you had to see that, and that it happened at all." 

She steps in close and hugs him, laying her head on his chest and breathing deeply, and Scott closes his eyes and basks in her embrace. To think he might have lost this. "I'm sorry for running away. I should have stayed and let you explain." 

"So, we're even then?" He leans back so that he can look down at her, and she arches an eyebrow at him. "Okay, not even, but maybe sixty-forty?" He teases and she huffs out a little laugh, her breath hitting the bottom of his neck and sending little shivers through his body. 

"Eighty-twenty. That's my final offer." She jokes back, and Scott drops a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Deal."

He leans down slowly to kiss her mouth, wanting to feel close to her and reconnect after their fight, but she pulls her head back sharply.

“What-?”

“I don’t think so. Not with those lips, buddy.” She wags a finger at him like he’s a misbehaved dog.

“What do you mean, not these lips? What lips should I use?” He sasses back, releasing her from the hug and placing his hands on his hips in mock annoyance to hide the hurt he feels.

“I know where they’ve been tonight. Go brush first.”

“Brush… my lips?” Scott tries not to laugh, but she looks so serious that he can’t help it when it bursts out of him.

She glares at him for a few seconds, but then her face cracks and she’s laughing too. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

The door opens and Jordan peeks her head around it. “Everything alright out here?”

“Yeah, Jor, he’s just been a victim of his own charm.” Tessa teases affectionately and Scott doesn’t even mind the slight jab. He kind of deserves it.

“Good. That means that I can grill him now. I promised Mom a full report.”

“Run, Scott!” Tessa tries to push him away, but it’s too late. Jordan grabs him by the arm and tugs him into the apartment.

The layout is similar to his own, but decorated much more brightly. It’s clear Tessa has done a lot to make it feel like home. She has a picture of her and her siblings at someone’s wedding on the shelf next to one of her with a woman he assumes is her mother, and another photo across the room of a couple kids that he assumes are her nieces and nephews. A stack of books is piled up high on the end table by the couch, a Polaroid serving as a bookmark stuck in between the pages of the top one. He doesn’t have more than a few seconds to observe, though, before Jordan is shoving him down on the couch.

What is it about Virtue women that makes them so deceptively strong?

“So, Scott.” She fixes him with an eagle eye. “What exactly are your intentions towards my sister?”

“Jordan!” Tessa cries out, face flooding with embarrassment. Jordan just holds up a hand to stop her. “This is mandatory older sibling stuff, Tess.”

Scott reaches over to find Tessa’s hand where she’s perched next to him on the arm of the couch, holding tight for a moment to hopefully show that he doesn’t mind the questioning.

“Entirely honorable.”

“Mmhmm.” Jordan looks skeptical. “And this whole debacle tonight?”

“A misunderstanding. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not. Otherwise I see castration in your future.” The look she gives him clearly says she means business, and Scott knows Tessa has brothers who would probably side with Jordan here. 

“ _Jordan_.” Tessa complains again with a drawn out groan as Scott reflexively squeezes his legs together in self-defense, cringing at the very idea.

“Just so he understands!” The older girl raises her hands to the side – as if she was only doing her duty. Scott tries to imagine Danny or Charlie doing the same for him and laughs – like they’d ever threaten Tessa. They’ll probably immediately like her more than him when they meet her and he’ll end up getting _The Talk_ twice.

“Now, I have a serious question for you." Jordan continues, her voice more relaxed and peppy now that the important stuff is out of the way. "Do you like romcoms?”

Scott chuckles and relaxes into the couch cushions, grateful that all the painful parts of the evening seem to have passed. “I love them.”

“Great! Tessa and I were going to watch the new Netflix show _Set It Up_. You in?”

Scott looks at Tessa to make sure that it’s okay, and when she smiles he says, “Absolutely. All in.” He keeps his eye on her on purpose as he talks - trying to convey the deeper message in the simple statement. 

They both miss the way Jordan rolls her eyes. “Tess, stop mooning and get the popcorn.”

 

The movie is cute, but the girl sitting next to him is cuter, and Scott spends most of the film watching Tessa’s reactions instead of the screen. He loves this. Loves sitting snuggled up on the couch together after a long day of work. Loves the way she willingly tucks herself into his side. It's the kind of evening he wants to have every night - a thought that would have sent him running for the hills in his twenties, but now fills him with a soft warmth and sense of security he's never felt before. He presses a soft kiss into Tessa's temple, just because he can. 

When the movie ends, Jordan excuses herself to the bathroom, presumably to give them some privacy - for which Scott is incredibly grateful. 

Tessa looks up at him, her face half-dark, half-light from the TV screen. “Scott?” She says his name so quietly, sparing a quick glance at the door Jordan just walked through. 

“Yeah, T?”

“You can kiss me now.” She whispers, barely audible, and, well, he’s definitely not about to turn that down. He wastes no time cupping her face with both of his hands and bringing his mouth to hers - starting off soft and chaste and with every intention of keeping it that way, but it soon becomes apparent that Tessa has other ideas. 

Her hands clutch at his sides, gripping his shirt in her fingers and pulling him close - slanting her lips against his and deepening the kiss.

Scott follows her lead, sliding one hand down to her neck – his thumb caressing her throat as she moans and tilts her head up. His other hand comes around to her ribs as she leans back into the corner of the couch so that she’s at an angle - not quite laying down, but Scott still has to move over her to keep his lips on hers. His head is spinning, heart beating double-time, at the feeling of her underneath him. He lets himself get swept up in all the sensations swimming through his body. In the way she makes him feel so completely whole, but also wanting more. 

He runs his mouth across her jaw and down her neck on the opposite side of his hand, pausing to suck on her pulse point and humming in approval when she whimpers and clutches tighter at his sides - her fingers practically digging into his ribs.

“Scott…”

"What do you want, Tess?” He asks, voice husky and low. Daring to run his thumb along the underside of her breast as he waits for her to speak. She arches her back in response – seeking more – and Scott grins into her collarbone.

“Scott-“ She tries again, her words dissolving into an eloquent “Ungh” when he scratches her scalp at the base of her neck and buries his hand in the dark strands of her hair. Her eyes rolling back in her head and her hips jerking into his in response. He grinds into her - the angle awkward and the movement encumbered by his jeans and her leggings - but it's just enough friction to leave them both seeking out more, and Tessa props her leg up on the floor to get better leverage so that she can return his thrusts. Her own hands have started moving, one tangling itself in his hair and holding on tight in a grip that's almost painful, and the other dragging his shirt up so that she can scratch back and forth along the skin of his lower back.  

It's Scott's turn to moan then, dragging his mouth across her skin in one long caress as his pants become uncomfortably tight, and he honestly can't think of a single good reason why they shouldn't move this to the bedroom right now. He scatters open-mouthed kisses across her chest, following the map of her freckles down her sternum, nipping at the very edge of her breast, and starts sliding her tank top up her body - revealing her inch by inch.

“ _Scott_.” She says for a third time and he takes pity on her and lifts his head.

“What?”

She blinks down at him owlishly, like she forgot what she was supposed to be saying. “Um…”

“Oh my God! What are you, teenagers? I left so that you could say goodnight, not get all hot and heavy on the couch!” Jordan yells loudly, her hand thrown over her eyes.

“Oh.” Tessa says, eyes going wide with realization. “That’s what I was trying to say. Remember Jordan’s here?”

She sounds distracted, her breathing still heavy, and with her messy hair and swollen lips the effect is thoroughly ravishing.

“Sorry.” Scott calls out loudly to Jordan.

He’s not.

“Just go before I’m scarred for life.” Jordan says, laughing a little. "This is so not going in my report to Mom." 

Tessa’s still laying there, looking like she’s trying to remember her own name – her green eyes glassy and out of focus - and Scott can’t resist kissing her one more time. Long and hard – tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth when he pulls away.

“Can I walk you to work tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She replies breathlessly, and Jordan clears her throat loudly.

“See you in the morning.” He lifts himself off of her and grins cheekily at Jordan as he heads out of the room, just barely catching her muttered, “Honorable intentions my ass” as she shuts the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“So…” Tessa begins as they walk hand-in-hand down the street the next morning, “What happens now?”

When he’d shown up at her doorstep, both of them laughing at their unintentionally matching black outfits, she’d been all giddy smiles and happy good morning kisses, but with each step they take Scott can feel her growing progressively more nervous.

“You mean at work?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to tell people.” He states confidently, without a doubt in his mind. He's in love with her, even if she doesn't know it yet, and there's no use trying to hide it. 

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We’re a small group of people under a lot of pressure and secrets don’t hold up under that kind of weight. Also, I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself _all day_.” He reaches out to grab her by the hip and kiss her fast, chuckling when Tessa elbows him lightly in the ribs. “You okay with that, Virtch?”

“Yeah. I'm definitely okay with that.” She grins up at him, her confidence from earlier returning, and Scott can’t believe he ever thought this might not be worth the risk. This is worth _everything_.

 

 

When they enter the warehouse Scott has every intention of announcing their relationship first thing – keeping Tessa’s hand laced tightly with his and not caring who sees – but they walk in on the sounds of boisterous laughter and find Tam standing in the middle of the cast regaling them with a story and gesticulating wildly.

“So there I am, handcuffed to the bed, whipped cream all over my chest, trying to convince this girl that _no I don’t have time to play_. And she couldn’t find the key to the cuffs, but thankfully they were low quality so she found some pliers and undid the links, which explains this,” He holds up his hands, cuffs still clamped around his wrists. “And she only set me free ten minutes ago so that’s why I only have one shoe and my shirt is on backwards.” He finishes and everyone laughs.

“So will you see her again?” Ricky asks.

“Oh yeah.” Tam nods with a lascivious smirk, eliciting more laughter.

Scott looks over at Tessa to gauge her reaction and finds her laughing along with everyone else. “Only Tam.” She says with another chuckle and a disbelieving shake of her head.

“So… you don’t mind?” He can’t resist double-checking, but he regrets it when Tessa fixes him with a look that says he’s being an idiot again. No, apparently she doesn't mind, and he really needs to try to be less prone to jealousy.

“Tessa! Scott!” Robyn runs over to them and Tessa tenses up, her lip curling up like she’s smelled something unpleasant. It’s clear that even though she’d forgiven him, Robyn is another matter altogether. “Oh my god you guys I am so fucking sorry! Holly gave me a ton of shit last night for what happened and told me I'd been a total bitch and I can’t apologize enough. We’re a family and if I’d had any idea that you were more than friends I would have _never_ kissed Scott. Can either of you forgive me?”

"Maybe promise not to kiss anyone without consent again,” Scott chastises, “But yeah, I forgive you.” He doesn't see the point in trying to hold a grudge, not when they all have to work together and things have worked out so beautifully between him and Tess.

“I promise. Absolutely. Consent is sexy, and all that.” She turns to Tessa, anxiously awaiting her answer.

“I think Scott said it perfectly. And… you’re right. We’re a family and families forgive so…”

Robyn squeals and pulls Tessa into a hug. “Thanks Tess. Holly said it was up to you whether or not she stabbed me with one of the prop swords, so if you could call her off, that would be great.”

Scott looks over the blonde’s shoulder to find Holly watching the conversation like a guard dog. Tessa nods at her and Holly nods back, backing off, and Scott thinks with absolute certainty that there’s no way he’d want to be on the receiving end of the Brit’s wrath.

"Gather round, gather round!" Alex calls out, and Scott leads Tessa by the hand to stand near the front of the group. Alex's eyes drop and definitely notice, but he doesn't comment and Scott figures that's all that will be said on the matter. "Before we start I want to share some good news with all of you. While we may not be able to open on time, the theatre will be ready for us to rehearse in starting on Monday." 

There are cheers and happy exclamations of joy and excitement at the news, and Tessa grabs onto Scott's arm with her free hand as she tries to contain her own giddiness. The knowledge that they'll finally get to be in their own theatre, with their own sets, is thrilling. 

"We're going to be filming a video of all of you seeing the inside of the theatre for the first time to share on social media, so make sure you show up  _on time_ next Monday. We'll meet at the stage door entrance off of Tremont Street." 

Tessa sets a reminder in her calendar on her phone - so much more responsible than Scott, who will probably write it down at some point on a piece of paper and then forget - and then everyone becomes serious and gets to work. 

Rehearsals go well, and Scott finds it so much easier to stay in character now that he isn't thinking about Tessa quite so obsessively. At least, not in the same way. Now that he's certain of her feelings and where they're headed, he isn't nearly so stressed. It helps that he feels like he can touch her however the role requires now, without worrying about crossing a line. 

At some point during one of the more emotional scenes, he sees Robyn snap a picture out of the corner of his eye - then smile to herself as she plays around on her phone. "I think we're about to be on Instagram." Scott whispers into Tessa's ear as he holds her close - practicing the scene where Christian and Satine reunite at the end of the show. 

"I think that's her way of showing that she's sorry." Tessa whispers back. 

Sure enough, when Scott checks during their lunch break, he and Tessa are the first thing on his feed. "Are you okay with this?" He holds out his phone to show Tess, who thinks it over for a second before nodding. 

"Yeah. It's a nice photo and it's good promotion for the show."  

“Hey Scott, Tessa.” Alex walks over to join them, carrying his own sandwich - something that smells like egg-salad and Scott makes a mental note not to stand too close. “The producers are doing a fancy dinner for investors and some theatre critics on Saturday and they’d like you both to attend. Danny will be there too, as well as me, Justin, John, Sonya, and Catherine.”

“Of course we’ll be there.” Tessa jumps in before Scott even has a chance to think. Although he supposes they don't  _really_ have a choice, if the producers want them there. 

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details. Dress nice.” He looks pointedly at Scott, who feels offended. It’s not like he needs to dress up for _rehearsal_ is it? So of course Alex has never seen him make an effort. 

“I’ll get a suit.” He grumbles, ignoring Tessa’s pinch as she tries to get him to behave.

"Great. Thanks, guys. I'll let you get back to your lunch now." 

Scott turns to Tessa with a grimace after Alex has walked a safe distance away. "A fancy night schmoozing people I don't know. Not exactly something to look forward to." 

"But we get to get all dressed up." Tessa replies with a pout. "It will be fun to be there together." 

"Virtch, anything with you is fun. But I'm still gonna grumble about wearing a suit." He kisses her cheek with a loud smack and Tessa laughs, wiping off the wetness he left behind with the back of her hand.  

“What are your plans for tonight?” He asks her hopefully as they clean up and prepare to get back to business - choreography and lines and hitting perfect notes.

“Jordan’s in town all week for her work, so she’s kind of got everything planned out for our evenings.” She says apologetically. “But Saturday I’m all yours.”

“Mine and a bunch of other showbiz people.” Scott corrects her.

“Mmm… that’s during the dinner.” She hums, wrapping her arms around his waist and swaying a little. “I was talking about _after_.” She grins at his expression – Scott knows he looks like she’s knocked him on the head with a giant club – and hops up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing to talk to Holly. 

 

Suddenly, Saturday can't come soon enough. 

 


	12. One Night (In the Name of Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That red dress Tessa wore for a photoshoot on July 25 was just too pretty not to include. 
> 
> Also, this chapter gets explicit at the end - so if you don't want to read it, look away!

** Chapter 12: One Night (In the Name of Love) **

****

Tessa Virtue has  _plans_.

After the rollercoaster that the past two and a half months had been – anger, misunderstandings, friendship, flirting, pretending to be in love all day at work -  she and Scott are finally on the same page about their feelings and their relationship, and she’s more than ready to take things further.

She’s been with other guys before, had a couple semi-serious boyfriends, but this time… things feel different.  _Scott_ is different. Different from anyone she’s ever dated before. This, their relationship, is special and Tessa wants to mark the occasion. Wants to make their first time together memorable. Wants to knock his proverbial socks off.

Really, Tessa just  _wants._

And that means making plans – specifically making a list so that she is one hundred percent prepared to execute said  _plans_  when the time arises. So that Tuesday night while she waits for Jordan to get home so that they can go get dinner, she pulls out her phone and starts typing.

 

  1. Buy a dress for Saturday’s dinner
  2. Cosmetics (waxing, mani/pedi, etc.)
  3. Shoes for the dress! (probably should be number 2)
  4. Lingerie – something that matches the dress?
  5. Clean apartment and wash sheets
  6. Buy flowers (for apartment), wine (for after dinner), and condoms (for after the wine)



 

Once she’s finished typing it all up she feels much more confident about Saturday and her ability to follow through. Now she just needs to make it happen.

 

\-------

           

“You need a dress for work? Aren’t they providing you with costumes, or is this production really low budget like that thing you did two years ago?” Jordan asks as they peruse the racks of clothing in a cute little  boutique downtown that Tessa’s been wanting to check out for a while.

“It’s not low budget and yes, they are providing the costumes. The dress is for a work  _dinner_. With the producers and critics and stuff. I need to look nice.” Tessa explains, holding up a sapphire blue cocktail dress with a halter-top and triangle cutouts on the side.

“I like that. It would be a good color on you.” Jordan nods approvingly, coming to stand by her side with her arms already full of choices she’s picked out for herself.

“Is it too short for a work dress though?” Tessa critically eyes the hemline, wondering just how much of her legs she wants to be showing off to showbiz big whigs. She wants to seduce Scott, not the whole damn room.

“Maybe, unless you’re trying to convince them you can be a good prostitute.” Jordan jokes, nudging her in the ribs before walking over to another rack of dresses. “What about this one?”

The dress is a gorgeous shade of cherry red with thin spaghetti straps and a wide V neckline. The skirt is very lightly pleated to add texture and even while being held up in the air, Tessa can tell it will flow beautifully – swishing airily around her legs as she walks. It looks to be about knee-length, maybe longer.

In a word: perfect.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m trying it on right now.”

It hugs her upper body perfectly and swirls around her knees like she'd predicted, and when she walks out of the dressing room she knows it’s the one. Jordan’s face breaks out in a big smile and she gives her two thumbs up. “That's the one. Red is definitely your color, Tess.”           

Tessa watches as the cashier carefully packages up the dress and then hands over her credit card – cringing a little at the price. But if all goes to plan, it will be worth it.

They head to a shoe store after that, both girls giving into their weakness for quality footwear and spending way too much money. Jordan buys a few sensible heels for work, as well as a fun pair of strappy sandals, and Tessa buys a pair of nude heels with a thick sole to go with the dress. Heels do great things for her calves and thankfully Scott is tall enough that she can wear them without it being awkward.

All-in-all, a very successful shopping day.

 

           

Friday morning brings tears as Tessa drops Jordan off at Logan International, taking the silver line bus with her sister to the airport – despite Jordan’s protests that she didn’t need to come all that way before work – just so that they can spend a few extra minutes together.

“I’ll be back for the premiere.” Jordan gently reminds her, but Tessa just holds on tighter as they embrace each other in the terminal.

“I know. I just hate having to say goodbye.”

“You’ll forget all about me the moment you realize you and Scott can be alone in the apartment again.” Jordan teases, tickling her side and forcing Tessa to release her from the hug.

"That’s not true.” Tessa protests. But it doesn’t last when Jordan fixes her with a skeptical raised eyebrow and she is forced to guiltily admit, “It might be a little true.”

“I know. Just like I know that red dress isn’t really for the producers and theatre critics either.”

Tessa blushes, ducking her head to stare at the floor which has suddenly become incredibly interesting while Jordan laughs at her.

“I know I’m not supposed to tell you good luck, so instead I’ll say go get lucky.” Jordan winks and Tessa giggles at the bad joke.

"I’ll try.” The nervousness and self-doubt creeps into her voice unbidden, and Jordan picks up on it right away.

“Tess, honey, all you’ll have to do is  _look_  at him and he’ll pounce. Mom is going to be so happy with my report.”  

Tessa groans, slapping her hand to her forehead. “Please don’t tell Mom any of this.”

“Not the nitty-gritty details, of course. She doesn't need to know about Saturday and your  _plans_. But she’ll kill me if I don’t give her  _something_. Besides, just think of it this way – when she comes to the premiere she’ll be less invasive because she’ll already know everything.” Jordan pats her on the shoulder and Tessa looks at her in disbelief.

“No she won’t!”

Jordan laughs and agrees. “No, she won’t.”

“What are the chances I can keep Mom away from Scott for the entire visit?”

"Um… pretty much zero. She and Alma are dying to get out here and make sure the two of you are headed for happily ever after. I think they’ve already had linens embroidered with your initials and booked a reception hall.”

“God, you’re the worst. You’ve been encouraging them, haven’t you?” Tessa accuses, and Jordan fixes her face to one of pure innocence - proving her guilt. 

“Oh would you look at that?” Jordan points to the Departures board high up on the wall. “Well this has been a lovely visit, Tess, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Jordan!”

Her sister kisses her on the cheek and then practically runs away towards the security line to avoid admitting her own culpability, and Tessa watches her go with a glare. She might just have to rescind her entire family’s invitation to the premiere, and also maybe never speak to any of them again.

The premiere might just be the most painfully embarrassing night of her life - and not because of the play!

With a resigned sigh Tessa heads back out to catch the bus and go to work, dreaming up scenarios where she smuggles Scott out of the theatre in a potato sack to avoid the inevitable ambush by their mothers. 

 

 

“How did it go this morning?” Scott asks after greeting her with a kiss once she’d walked in the door of the warehouse. He knew all about Jordan leaving and how sad it was for Tessa to have to be parted from her sister again.

Well, how sad it  _would_  have been if her sister wasn’t being an infuriating interfering matchmaker.

“It was alright. She’ll be back in a couple of weeks, so I’m just trying to keep that in mind.”  _Keep it in mind because that’s when I’ll exact my revenge_ , she thinks darkly, wondering if that would be the perfect time to reveal to her mother that Jordan is the one who broke the kitchen window last year playing baseball in the backyard, not one of the neighborhood boys.

“Does this mean you’re free this afternoon?” Scott asks hopefully. They all have the afternoon off at Danny’s request (he has some family thing to attend and Alex thought he’d be nice and give them a mini vacation), but Tessa frowns and shakes her head. As much as she wants to spend more time with Scott, she has items on her list that need checking off.

“I’m not actually.” Tessa replies apologetically, feeling guilty at his downcast expression. “Holly and I have plans together.”

_It’s partially for your benefit,_ she wants to tell him. She and Holly had scheduled an Aesthetic Prep Day for the following week to prepare for dress rehearsals and spending so much time in corsets and underwear, but Tessa had asked if they could go sooner because of the whole  _Scott_  situation (or what she hopes will be a situation).

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.” Scott says with an exaggerated sigh, and Tessa leans up to kiss the pout off his face.

“Tomorrow.” She whispers when she pulls away, the word full of promise, and Scott gulps audibly. "I promise I'll make it up to you." 

"I like the sound of that." He hums, pulling her in close by her waist and kissing her temple.

"Alright, lovebirds, we've got work to do." Tam says, bumping into them on purpose with a laugh and eliciting a few chuckles out of some of the other cast members. Tessa steps out of Scott's embrace with a shy smile and he reaches out to hold her hand instead while they wait for Alex to begin. 

 

They work mostly on the opening dance routine of Act 2, since it's a group number that needs everyone to participate, and it's the first time they get through the entire thing flawlessly. Alex claps for joy once they're done, congratulating them all on their hard work.

Tessa feels like maybe they might actually be able to pull this musical off, and it eases some of her trepidation.

Once rehearsals have ended Holly comes sauntering up, bag in tow, to grab Tessa’s arm. “Tess, love, are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely. Let’s get this show on the road.”

They walk outside and hop on the bus to go further downtown, and Holly wastes no time jumping into an animated interrogation.           

“So, you wanna tell me why we moved up our appointment?” Holly asks once the bus starts moving and they’re heading down the road.

“It’s just more convenient to do it today.” Tessa twirls her rings around her middle finger, attempting to sound casual. She really doesn't want to confess her plans, in case she somehow jinxes it and they don't happen.

Holly rolls her eyes and hands Tessa a piece of cinnamon gum as she says, "Nuh-uh. You are the world’s worst liar. The truth, please.”

“That is the truth!”

“No, this is the truth. You say, ‘Holly, there’s a special dinner tomorrow night that I have to attend with my decidedly not platonic business partner and I’m hoping to shag him senseless afterwards.’” She states it so matter-of-factly that it's almost like she read Tessa's mind. 

“Holly!” Tessa protests, face flooding with embarrassment that she’d just said all that on a public bus. She hopes desperately that nobody heard it – especially not the sleazy old man sitting three rows away.

“Am I wrong?” Holly fixes her with a look and Tessa purses her lips.

“No comment.”

She laughs. “That’s a yes. Good for you, girl. I was worried after the whole Robyn thing it might have thrown a wrench in your relationship.”

“It did, but we worked it out. Thank you for that, by the way. For talking to Robyn.” Tessa reaches out and squeezes Holly’s hand in gratitude.

“Of course, love. That’s what friends are for.” Holly smiles and squeezes back, and not for the first time Tessa feels incredibly grateful to have found such an amazing friend in the cast. “So, what kind of lingerie do you think Scott likes?”

Maybe not.

 

Tessa lets Holly drag her into a really nice lingerie store, trying not to show her discomfort as Holly asks her about style and fit and "Any kinks I should know about?" – laughing at her loudly when Tessa had nearly choked on her own spit at the “What about crotchless panties?” question.

“Oh, honey, this is going to be so much fun.”

It's overwhelming, how many options there are. Options that Tessa didn’t even know existed. The store is full of every color and style imaginable from corsets and garter belts to barely-there see-through bralettes and thongs, as well as more conservative options like teddies and silky nightgowns.

“Let’s get you fitted first. I’ll go find a salesperson.” Holly says, as if this is an every-day business affair. 

“Sure, no rush.” Tessa replies, running her hand along a beautiful maroon corset. It’s gorgeous, but not exactly what she’s looking for. After-all, Scott's going to be seeing her in corsets every day pretty soon, and she doesn't want to take the character home with them. “I just need some nice underwear, nothing fancy.”

“That’s for tomorrow. But what about the night after that, and then after that?” Holly asks with a wink and Tessa blushes. Somehow in all her excitement, the thought hadn’t occurred to her to plan for more than the one night.  _Oh God_ , the thinks with a groan,  _I hope it's more than just one night_. 

Holly retrieves one of the workers who greets Tessa with a friendly, reassuring smile before leading her to the dressing rooms. “Are you looking for anything special today?”

“Um…”

“Bras, underwear, maybe a nice nightgown.” Holly supplies helpfully.

"Anything in particular?” The woman asks kindly, even though she must think Tessa is the biggest prude based on her behavior and the way she's certain she's turned bright red.

“No.” Tessa shakes her head.

The woman hums and goes to retrieve a few options. Holly turns to look at Tessa with an uncomfortably inquisitive look in her eye.

“Be honest with me, is this your first time?”

“No!” Tessa exclaims, shooting a glare at her friend.

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t done this before?”

“I haven’t! I’ve had sex, of course I’ve had sex. But I’ve never  _prepared_  to have sex.” Tessa explains in a rush. “It feels weird. In the past it’s always just been a thing that happened in the moment. But this time… I don’t know, I want it to be special and it's making me nervous.”

“Tess,” Holly starts with an understanding smile, “It will be special because it’s with Scott and you care for each other, whether you’re in a lacy bra or a manky old sweater.”

“Thanks.” Tessa lets out a little laugh just as the sales lady (Monica, her nametag says) returns.

“I think I have the correct size here. I’m pretty good at guessing. Try these on and see if you like them.”

Tessa steps behind the curtain and tries on the bras. Somehow, Monica  _had_  guessed her size correctly, and they’re all beautiful. She particularly likes the sapphire blue lace bralette and matching boy shorts (that goes in the  _yes_  pile). The pale pink nightgown with black trim is also perfect, and Tessa adds that to the pile as well. Ultimately she decides to buy all the bras Monica brought her, except a bright orange one that clashes horribly with her skin. 

“They’re lovely.” She says after putting her clothes back on and stepping outside.

“Do you want to show your girlfriend?” Monica asks with a smile, and Tessa and Holly both burst out laughing.

“Yeah, Tess. Show me what you chose. That way I can tease Scott mercilessly about it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed.” Monica tries to apologize, but Tessa rushes to reassure her.

"It’s fine, we don’t mind. But no, we’re not together. This is for my boyfriend.” It’s the first time she’s said the word aloud, and a giddy smile spreads across her face.

“Ah, well he’s a lucky man then. All of our underwear options can be found over along the south wall, there should be plenty of choices to go with the bras you've chosen.”

She leads them over to show all of the available styles – ranging from retro style “granny panties” to bikinis to a few kinds that look like they would barely hold together after being worn once.

Tessa picks out a few of the bikinis to go with the bras she’d chosen, as well as a lacy red thong that perfectly matches her dress for tomorrow.

“I hope we’ll see you again.” Monica says as she rings up her purchases at the counter.

“Thank you very much for all your help.” Tessa replies as she picks up her bags and turns to head out the door with Holly. They still have mani/pedi’s to get as well as a wax and need to be on their way if they’re going to make their appointment.

 

 

Saturday morning sees Tessa up bright and early to put into action the final items on her list. She cleans the apartment from top to bottom (not that it was that messy to begin with, but still), changes the sheets on her bed, and heads to the grocery store.

The store proves to be a little awkward when she gets to the check-out stand with a cart only containing flowers (peonies), wine (both red and white), and a box of condoms. The father in the line in front of her with his three young children stares at her cart and then at her like she’s committed some sort of sin, and Tessa spins around – nearly crashing into a display – and runs around the store throwing a few more items pell-mell into the cart.

Which is how she ends up at home with cupboards containing Doritos, one can of tomato soup, a loaf of wheat bread, a bar of dark chocolate, and a box of popcorn, as well as a fridge with only milk and butter inside.

She admitted to herself a long time ago that she would never be Gordon Ramsay or Chrissy Teigen, but this is a new low, even for her. Someday she should really sign up for one of those food-prep delivery services so that she can avoid situations like this. 

 

She showers, does her hair in a sleek, carefully styled low bun, and applies her make-up before putting on the new underwear and dress.

Unfortunately, she realizes too late that she was so prepared for tonight that now it’s quarter to five and she still has another hour before she and Scott have to leave. Another hour to wander around her tiny apartment and try not to let the nerves and anxiety build. Another hour to imagine all the different ways tonight could go (fruitless, as it only serves to either make her anxious or incredibly horny).

She’s saved by an incoming call from Scott.

“Hey, T, I’ve got a bit of a situation.” He sounds mildly alarmed, and Tessa freezes in the middle of pacing around her kitchen.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what to  _wear_.” He whines, and it sounds so much like a teenage girl that Tessa busts up laughing – all of her anxiety dissolving into a burst of giggles.

“What do you mean? Wear a suit, of course.”

“Yeah, but I went out to buy a couple options because Alex was all ‘You don’t know how to dress yourself, Scott’ and now I don’t know which one is best, or what tie looks right with which suit. It’s all a disaster.”

Tessa tries not to laugh again as she takes pity on him. “Hang on, I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks, Virtch. You’re the best.”

 

Three minutes later Tessa stands outside his door, smoothing down the skirt of her dress and trying hard to remember the breathing techniques her voice coach taught her.  _Will he like the dress? Will he like me? Will he want to do this?_

She knocks on the door and before her hand has a chance to fall back to her side he’s swinging it wide open with a grin and a “Thank you” that dies on his lips at the sight of her.

Her own response gets caught in her throat as she looks at what he’s wearing. Or, rather, what he’s  _not_ wearing. Because Scott Moir just opened his front door in nothing but a white undershirt and black boxer briefs and Tessa’s pretty sure all her cognitive thinking ability has been lost.

“Wow. Tessa you look amazing.” He sounds stunned, and the use of her full name brings her attention back to his face – which is currently looking at her like she’s made of diamonds or something else infinitely precious and valuable.

“Thank you.” She smiles demurely, trying hard not to let her eyes drop back down to his lack of pants. “Can I come in? You did say you needed help.”

“What?” He looks at her and she could have been speaking Greek for all he apparently understood.

“Your  _suit_.” Tessa says with a grin, and Scott shakes his head and stands up straighter.

“Oh yeah. Come on in.”

He steps aside so that she can walk around him before closing the door and leading her to his bedroom.

Sure enough he has three complete suits laid out on the bed, as well as a handful of ties balled up in the middle. Tessa looks over the options: black, grey, and navy.

“Do you have a grey dress shirt?” She turns to ask, finding Scott’s eyes lingering on her legs instead of paying attention. They shoot up to meet hers, and he blushes at being caught. Although Tessa doesn't mind. It's a relief to be reminded that  _yes_ , he does find her attractive. That's an important factor in being able to seduce him later. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great. Then wear the grey shirt, the black suit, and this tie.” She holds up a black tie with tiny red diagonal lines on it. “That way we’ll kind of match.”

He grins at her and gives her on a peck on the cheek. “I knew I could count on you, T.”

Tessa waits in the kitchen for him to emerge, and when he does all the breath leaves her lungs in one fell swoop. She’s never seen him in a suit before. Hell, she’s grown so used to seeing him in Canada t-shirts and sweatpants at rehearsal she’d almost forgotten what he looks like in anything else.

And how he looks now, pardon her French, is pretty fucking fantastic.

So fantastic that all her plans fly out the window as she marches up to him, grabs him by the lapels, and pulls him down for a passionate kiss that he reciprocates wholeheartedly.

"Tess, not that I’m complaining here,” Scott says after they break apart for air a few minutes later, “But we should probably get going if we don't want to be late.”

"Can we just stay here instead?” Tessa asks, only partially joking. She’d rather make-out with him than go schmooze a bunch of guys she doesn’t know and try to impress critics that have probably already decided not to like her.

“You know I really,  _really_ , want to say yes. But I also like my job. And you like your job. So we should maybe try not to get fired.” He points out practically. 

“Fine.” Tessa pouts and Scott reaches up to tug playfully at her bottom lip.

“Come on, Cinderella, let’s get going so I can have you home by midnight.”

_Home_. She likes the sound of that. 

          

             

The dinner ends up being simultaneously just as bad as, and better than, she thought it would be. Having to talk to critics who ask her the same questions over and over - whether or not she thinks she can measure up to Nicole Kidman, if they think audiences will be happy, how does she like Boston, is it intimidating being in her first Broadway show (she fights back on that one. She’s done plenty of  _shows_  thank you very much, they just weren’t musicals) - is boring and only serves to increase her anxiety about starring in such an iconic musical. 

She’s exhausted and feels poked and prodded like some sort of circus animal put on display.

But…

Scott is there, and he’s handsome and kind and generous the whole night. Always checking in to make sure she’s comfortable, keeping a hand on her back for support, answering questions for both of them when he can tell she just doesn’t have it in her. All during dinner she keeps one hand on his thigh in gratitude and solidarity and he keeps his hand resting on her shoulder, occasionally rubbing little circles into her neck.

She’s exhilarated and feels aroused and full of anticipation for the end of the evening.

 

 

It's eleven o'clock before Bill Damaschke tells them they are free to go, and they don't arrive at their apartment building until close to midnight - having walked home slowly under the quiet stars, hand in hand, enjoying each other's company. 

When they step inside, however, the feeling of easy companionship disappears and as they walk to the elevators the air becomes charged with unspoken hope and expectations. 

Tessa can swear she hears her heart beating loudly in her ears as she waits to see if he’ll say anything. When he doesn’t speak, just pushes the up arrow and stares at the silver doors, Tessa says his name.

“Scott?”

He turns to look at her, “Yeah, Tess?”

With a deep breath, Tessa takes the plunge, hoping he doesn’t respond like he did that other night so long ago, “Do you want to come up?”

"Yes.” He states emphatically, and they both grin at each other. Smiles that are full of promise.

The ride up the elevator is quiet and their hands are clasped together so tightly that Tessa’s not sure they’ll ever be parted again. Not that she wants that. She's pretty certain that being by Scott's side is something she really, really likes and wouldn't mind enjoying for a long time. Maybe forever.  

Scott follows her down the hallway and she takes out her keys to unlock her front door. Suddenly his arms encircle her waist and his lips land on the back of her neck - sucking the spot under her ear (definitely his place now), skimming back and forth across her shoulder, pulling the strap of her dress to the side with his teeth before planting a kiss over where it had left a mark in her skin. She's hit so hard with an overwhelming wave of arousal that she shudders and drops her head back on his shoulder, letting her keys slip from her hand and fall to the floor.

“Uh, Tess.” He says, pressing another kiss underneath her ear, the laughter evident in his voice, “I think we might need those.”

“Then stop distracting me.” She chastises gently and he replaces the fallen strap on her shoulder before backing away so that she can retrieve her keys and unlock the door.

She leads him inside, closing the door quietly behind them, and turns around to ask if he wants a glass of wine. The first word is barely out of her mouth before his lips are on hers, pressing her back into the door and doing his damnedest to make her forget her own name.

His hands are everywhere - moving from her waist to her back to the sides of her breasts, before hitching one of her legs up around his waist so that he can press himself into her - eliciting loud moans out of both of them at the sensation. Tessa sets about messing up his carefully styled hair, running her hands through it and scratching at his scalp, making his hips buck into hers in response. 

Scott's other hand slides down the side of her body to grab her other leg, and Tessa knows he's going to want her to jump up so that she can wrap her legs around his waist, but she really doesn't want their first time to be up against her front door (another time, definitely), so she pushes back on his chest.

"Bedroom." 

"Yes, please." Scott agrees quickly, taking her hand and leading her there like he owns the place. Tessa giggles at his determined stride, feeling lightheaded and eager. 

When they reach the bedroom he turns around and gathers her in his arms, leaning in to kiss her again and pick up where they left off in the entryway, but Tessa has other ideas. She's been dreaming about this for ages and doesn't want to wait any longer to move things along. 

She steps back, looking him in the eye while she removes one strap, then the other, smirking with he gulps and clenches his jaw - the muscles becoming prominent when he does that, just the way she likes - and Tessa turns around slowly so that he can unzip the back.

His fingers stroke the skin of her spine first, before gliding down slowly to the zipper, and Tessa waits until he's finished before turning around to face him again, making sure he's looking at her before letting the dress fall in one long waterfall of red fabric - pooling around her feet and leaving her clad only in her matching red underwear. 

Scott just  _stares_  at her, his eyes roaming up and down her body, and Tessa waits so long for him to say something that she grows self-conscious and moves to cover herself, but that seems to spur him into action. His hands shoot out to grab her wrists and hold them down by her waist.

“No, please don’t. You’re perfect. So gorgeous, Tess, I can hardly believe you're real.” The look in his eyes is incredibly gratifying, so Tessa relaxes and lets him take his fill.

His hands move from her wrists, gliding up her arms, over her shoulders, tracing the dips in her collarbone, before finally grazing lightly down to her breasts. He cups them for a moment, running his thumbs over her nipples, before wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her up against his body so that he can kiss her.

Slow, deep kisses that stoke the fire inside her – building it gradually until it becomes a raging inferno. It's overwhelming, the feelings he's creating in her body and in her heart. The way he kisses her like... like he loves her. It has Tessa's breath becoming heavy and labored and they've hardly done anything yet. 

Her hips jerk forward into his – desperately seeking friction – and Scott reaches down to grab her ass and fix the angle – slotting his thigh between her legs and helping move her against him. Probably ruining his brand new suit pants. 

She has to break free to breathe, her head falling backwards as she sucks in air, and Scott wastes no time moving down her neck – nipping and kissing, going as far down as he can reach while still keeping his leg between hers. She's already  _so close_. 

But he is definitely overdressed, and ss nice as it feels to have his shirt rubbing against her bare chest, Tessa reaches down to tug at it impatiently.

“Off. Now.”

Scott steps back, "Your wish, my command!" His voice is cheerful, but he's just as breathless and affected as she is - his pupils blown wide and his hair sticking up in a million directions. Tessa whimpers at the loss of the wonderful friction his thigh was providing. She’s practically throbbing with the need for release.

He tugs his shirt off violently and Tessa hears a few button scatter across the floor (that’s the shirt finished too, then), before also unbuttoning his pants and letting them drop to the ground. He’s left in a white undershirt, which he pulls over his head and drops unceremoniously, and plain black boxer briefs. Tessa can see him straining against the fabric.

She reaches out and cups him, squeezing once and relishing the low, animalistic growl he emits, before walking around him and laying on the bed. He watches her with hooded eyes, and she beckons him with her index finger once she's reclined fully on the mattress and Scott follows obediently, crawling after her.

Instead of laying on top of her like she’d expected, he kneels between her knees and lifts up her right leg - starting by kissing her ankle, running his lips up the side of her calf until he reaches her knee – biting the back of it lightly and sending a flood of heat to her center.

Then he carefully lowers that leg before giving the other one the same treatment.

“Scott.” She whines, wanting him to speed up. “Come  _on_.”

“Shh, Tess, we have all night. There’s no need to rush.” He whispers into her skin, and Tessa practically whimpers in response. 

“Yes there is.” She argues, and he chuckles before bending down further so that he can alternate kisses between her thighs, before planting an open-mouthed kiss right below her bellybutton.

If possible, he moves even slower as he continues up her chest.

"I want to take my time with you." He licks a long stripe between her breasts, then sucks a mark into her skin on top of the freckles on her sternum (she really hopes that won't show when she's in costume... but also finds she doesn't really care if it does).  

He works more marks into the underside of each breast before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard – rolling it around with his tongue. Her hips shoot off the bed and Scott laughs – a deep, throaty sound that reverberates through her body.

“Scott  _please_  – I need-“

“What do you need, T?” He looks up at her, making sure her eyes are on him when he moves to take her other nipple in his mouth, and she moans loudly - her head falling back into the pillows. 

“I need… more.”

“More  _what_?”

“More of you.  _Here.”_  She surges her hips upwards again, bucking them into his abdomen to make her point.

"Okay." He says easily, and his hand starts gliding up the inside of her thigh. She spreads her legs willingly as wide as she can to give him ample room to do whatever he wants with her - utterly trapped under the spell he's created. 

He strokes her feather-light over her underwear, gasping against her skin at what he finds there. “Fuck, Tess. You’re so wet.”

“Yes.” She agrees breathlessly, her eyes shut tight, “For you.”

“ _Fuck_.”

He speeds up his movements, slipping his hand inside her underwear to touch her directly like she’s fantasized about so many times.

Reality is so much better.

He moves back up to kiss her on the mouth – swallowing her noises when he slips one, then two fingers inside her – pumping in and out slowly.

“God, Tess. You feel so good. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Then do it.” She pleads, so close but needing more.

“Not yet.”

He latches onto her neck and starts rubbing her clit with his thumb – listening carefully to the sounds she makes until he finds the movements that make her keen.

Her orgasm washes over her without warning – her mind going blank as her head falls and she cries out - and Scott continues working her through it, kissing her neck and face almost reverently.

When she blinks her eyes open she finds him propped up on his elbow and staring at her with something akin to love and wonderment in his eyes.

“So fucking gorgeous. That was amazing, Tess.”

“Your turn.” She replies, still panting. “The condoms are in the drawer.”

He moves off of her to retrieve one, and Tessa uses the opportunity to reach down and remove her ruined underwear – flinging it off to the side in the direction of her laundry basket. She'll worry about cleaning up the room later. When Scott turns around, now naked and the condom firmly in place, he stops and stares at her spread out for him.

“What are you waiting for?” She tilts her head and smiles impishly – her orgasm giving her the confidence to lay there and let him look instead of trying to cover up. She’s never felt so comfortable before. Even with past boyfriends, she’s always been the person who didn’t like to be looked at too closely for too long. But with Scott, the way he looks at her, she’s beginning to think she wouldn’t mind if he wanted to look forever.

“You. I’ve been waiting for you.” He caresses her cheek and Tessa blushes even as she rolls her eyes a little bit.

“You are so cheesy.”

Scott laughs and leans down to kiss her, before moving back into place between her bent legs and rocking back and forth – sliding his length along her folds to get ready before he reaches down and lines himself up at her entrance.

“Ready?’

“And willing!” She jokes, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders. She can’t resist grabbing onto the back of his head with her left hand and letting her fingers get tangled in his frankly magnificent hair. It’s the perfect length and she loves grabbing onto it, and if the way he practically purrs is any indication, he loves it too.

Her right hand holds onto his shoulder-blade, nails digging in as he slowly pushes inside her for the first time.

When he’s finally in all the way he stops moving and his head drops to the crook of her neck – clearly overwhelmed by the sensation – and Tessa can feel herself pulsing around him. They stay like that for a moment, adjusting to the feel of each other, before Scott takes a deep breath and props himself up on his elbows so that he can kiss her.

He starts out pumping slow and deep – the long slide of his cock in and out sending continuous shockwaves throughout her body. But with each of his upward thrusts she cries out louder, and that encourages him to move faster – until kissing becomes impossible and they end up just holding their mouths against each other, breathing the same air, and looking into each other’s eyes as Scott moves faster and faster – Tessa bringing her hips up to match him thrust for thrust.

“Are you-“ He asks, his breathing stuttered and his voice wrecked.

“Close”

“What do you need?”

“Touch me. Oh God, Scott, please touch me.”

He manages to maneuver a hand in between them so that he can rub at her clit, and that’s all it takes for Tessa to reach her second climax of the night – stars bursting behind her eyelids and between her legs.

She’s vaguely aware of Scott pumping a couple more times, and then he’s coming too. Face falling back into the crook of her neck as she holds onto him through the after-effects of their mutual orgasms.

She syncs her breathing with his almost unconsciously, finding it relaxing and a way to add even more to the intimacy between them. It feels like they’ve created their own little haven in her bedroom and Tessa never wants to leave.

Eventually he moves off her, kissing her shoulder before getting out of bed to dispose of the condom and put his boxers back on. She watches him go, too sated to move right away.

When he returns he crawls in beside her and starts pulling her in close for a cuddle, already looking sleepy, but Tessa stops him.

“What’s wrong?” His drowsy eyes immediately open up wide to look at her in concern.

“Nothing. Just hang on a sec.” She climbs out of bed, relishing the soreness between her legs (it had been a while) and puts on his discarded white t-shirt (ignoring Scott’s sound of protest at losing the sight of her naked) before she walks to the foot of the bed where her dress had fallen earlier. “I don’t want it to wrinkle beyond all repair.” She explains, picking it up, looking it over and feeling satisfied that it’s not too worse for wear.

“Of course.” Scott chuckles, rolling over onto his back and tucking his hands underneath his head, watching as she carefully hangs the dress up in her closet.

“Don’t joke. It’s a nice dress and I love it.”

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’m a big fan of it too. It really brightened up the floor.” He grins, sounding a little cocky for a naked guy with crazy hair and a couple long scratches contrasting sharply against the pale skin of his chest that she doesn’t remember giving him.  _He deserves to be proud right now_ , she thinks with a private smile, the giddiness from earlier returning - this kind of joy from being with another person entirely new and wonderful for her. 

“Oops. Sorry.” Tessa points to the marks, and Scott glances down – seeming unperturbed.

“Badges of honor, eh?” He extends one of his arms, clearly wanting her to come back to bed, which she does willingly after turning off the light and pulling the clips out of her hair - letting it fall loose are her shoulders. She tucks herself into his side and resting her head on his chest.

He runs his hand through the strands of her hair, wrapping it around his fingers before letting it fall – repeating the motion a few times – and Tessa lets her own hand wander across his chest and down his abs, tracing his muscles.

It’s quiet and peaceful and Tessa can feel herself nodding off. Her breathing deepening and her hand falling still over his ribcage. In the dark she can hear him whisper.

“Tess?”

“Mmm?” She hums, trying to listen but quickly succumbing to dreamland.

“I…” He pauses, sounding like he’s struggling with some sort of emotion, and Tessa tenses for a moment wondering if he’s about to say something  _important_. “I’m really happy.” He finishes, but it comes out clunky like it wasn’t what he was going to say. “Are you happy?”

She turns her head a little, tilting it up so that she can kiss the underside of his jaw. “ _So_  happy.”

His hand that was in her hair clamps onto the back of her neck at her words and he swallows loudly, like he's nervous about something. She gives him a hug, the best she can manage in their current position, and another kiss to his jaw in an attempt to reassure him. Whatever he's feeling, she's sure she feels the same. “Goodnight, Scott.”

He exhales loudly, his body relaxing again, and whispers back, “Goodnight, Tess.”

 

 


	13. How Wonderful Life Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just a smutty little fluffy interlude. :)

** Chapter 13: How Wonderful Life Is **

****

The early morning sun streams in through the window, slowly brightening the room from black to grey to a soft blue. Moving gradually up the furniture and walls until it prods at Scott’s eyelids, gently forcing him awake.

A satisfied, happy smile spreads across his face as he blinks his eyes open and recognizes the interior of Tessa’s bedroom. Turning his head, he sees the woman herself still quietly sleeping – lying on her back with her face turned towards him.

She’s so beautiful. Scott indulges in the private moment, rolling over and up onto his elbow so that he can commemorate the sight of her like this. Memorize her relaxed features and add them to the snapshots in his head that make up all the different moods and faces of  _Tessa_. Observing the freckles that dot her face, her graceful eyelashes that caress her cheeks, the way her lips are slightly parted, her hair spread out across the pillow like a painting – contrasting starkly with the white pillows.

Last night had been the best night of his life. Not because of the sex (although that was great), but because of who the sex was with.  _Tessa_. She’d come into his life, to quote the song, like a wrecking ball. Smashing all his preconceived notions about love to dust before building them back up again in the shape of her.

He loves her. And he falls more in love with her every day. It feels as though they were always meant to be. Like in every universe there’s a Scott and there’s a Tessa, finding their way to each other.

He’d almost confessed the depth of his feelings to her last night, caught up in that post-coital bliss that makes secrets bubble upwards – encouraged by overwhelming happiness that had made him careless. But he’d chickened out at the last moment, too worried that it was far too soon to be saying such important words and she’d go running for the hills.

_What if she doesn’t feel the same way?_

He can promise to love her forever all day at rehearsal, but when it really mattered his tongue had gotten stuck in his throat.

 

It’s just… he wants it to be perfect. Memorable. Starlight and a thousand red roses and the right music to set the mood.

But for now he’ll settle with just feeling it. Carrying the secret in his heart until the time is right. Until he can be sure she feels the same way.

It’s Sunday morning and they have nowhere to be and all the time in the world.

 

It’s that thought that encourages him to let his eyes wander lower, dropping to where her (his) shirt had ridden up during the night, leaving her abdomen bare down to her hips where the blanket hides the rest of her. The little piece of silver adorning her bellybutton blinks like a beacon in the sunlight.

He reaches out with his right hand and runs his fingers lightly across her stomach – watching as her muscles clench in response. His eyes shoot up to her face in concern, but she hasn’t stirred, so Scott continues the motion.

Back and forth and back and forth until he grows bolder, running his index finger down to her hipbone and beyond – moving the sheet down as well until she’s barely covered.

_Will she mind?_ Scott wonders, the desire coursing through his blood and sending his heart racing with anticipation. He doesn’t want to do anything without her permission. This latest development in their relationship is still so new that he doesn’t want risk jeopardizing it.

He maneuvers himself down under the blankets and between her legs, which she seems to spread unconsciously for him, and gets to work waking her up so that he can get her consent to do what he really wants.

He starts slow, just the lightest of kisses inside each knee, before gradually increasing the pressure of his mouth as he moves up the inside of one thigh, then down the other. She hadn’t put on any underwear before getting into bed, but he won’t go there until she’s awake and asks him to.

It isn’t long before she starts moving, her body shuffling as she starts waking up, and Scott has to clamp his hands down over each knee to keep them in place. The last thing he needs is a black eye or a bruise that would be awkward to explain. 

Her eyes finally blink open when he sucks a mark into her hipbone. Bright red in sharp contrast to her milky skin.

“Wha-?” She looks down in confusion, and Scott grins up at her.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

“Oh.” Her lips round out into the cutest little shape as her whole face lights up in surprise, recognizing him and his intentions all at once.

"Do you mind if I-?” He gestures vaguely at the area below her waist and Tessa blushes scarlet.

“Do you… do you want to?” Her voice is thick with sleep, breathless and a little timid, and Scott smiles softly at her in a way that he hopes is reassuring.

“Very much.”

She smiles back at him a little more confidently and nods and Scott immediately sets to work putting her legs over his shoulders and crossing his arms up and over her stomach so that she’s locked in his hold.

He keeps his eyes on hers as he lowers his lips to her center, kissing her there softly before running his tongue in one long stripe from her entrance to her clit.

Tessa moans loudly, breaking eye contact as her head falls back into the pillows, and that’s when Scott becomes merciless in his drive to bring her pleasure - to figure out everything she likes – his hold on her waist coming in handy when she starts trying to buck her hips into his mouth.

A phone rings out, loud and shrill, just as Scott is reaching to play with one of her breasts. “Ignore it.” He commands, sucking hard at her clit to make sure her attention is focused completely on him.

"Yeah.” Tessa barely manages to reply, her hands fisting in the sheets.

He starts fucking her with his tongue, growing obsessed with the noises she’s making, when the phone rings again.

“Wait, Scott, wait.” Tessa opens her eyes, reaching out with a shaky hand to dig around for the phone on her nightstand.

“Leave it, Tess. You can call them back.”

She looks at the phone screen and her other hand reaches out to grab him by the hair and pull him off her.

Scott knows he’s pouting, but he can’t help it. She was so  _close_.

“It’s my Mom. We always talk on Sundays and if I don’t answer she’ll be worried. Just give me a sec.” She explains before propping the phone against her ear and answering with an exaggerated attempt at sounding normal. “Hello?”

Scott huffs, settling in to wait impatiently, distracting himself by kissing the inside of her thighs – despite the warning look she gives him.

“Yes, I’m still in bed… Last night was fine. Dinner was kind of boring.” Suddenly her face goes red, the blush spreading all the way down her neck and underneath the shirt before reemerging on her now bare breasts. Scott follows the color curiously with his eyes before looking back up at Tessa, who is studiously avoiding his questioning gaze.

“What do you mean  _was last night special_!?” She squeaks out, and Scott has to quickly smother his laughter into her leg. “Oh  _Jordan_  said I had big plans?” She sounds indignant, and Scott can’t resist teasing her a little by leaning forward and suddenly licking her clit.

Her legs clamp around his head as she cries out, “ _SCOTT!_ ” and then he’s genuinely forced to move his head away so that he can bury his face into the mattress and laugh some more – listening as she scrambles to explain.

“Oh, yes, I just remembered. Scott. Scott and I had plans, but it was nothing special. Jordan exaggerates. We just… we went to a movie. With friends. Lots of friends.” Her voice is breathless and Scott’s not sure she’s convincing anyone of anything. In fact, he’s pretty sure Tessa is the worst liar he’s ever met.

“What movie? Um…” She looks down at him for help and he whispers  _The Incredibles_ , because Danny had just told him yesterday that he’d taken the kids to see it and how funny it was.

“The Incredibles.” Tessa tells her mother. “See? Not romantic. Completely platonic behavior  _like I’ve told you before_.” She waits for a moment, rolling her eyes and sighing at something her mom says, then wraps up the call. “Listen, Mom, I gotta go… No, he’s NOT here. Stop listening to Jordan. Okay. Mhmmm… Okay, bye Mom. Love you.”

She hangs up, tossing the phone away before glaring down at him. “What on  _earth-_ “

But Scott doesn’t give her the chance to finish, instead diving back in to pick up where he’d left off, this time slipping two fingers inside her and pumping in and out while relentlessly sucking on her clit. It takes only a few minutes before Tessa cries out, coming around his mouth and fingers with a violent shudder – her body curling upwards as she grips his hair like a lifeline.

He stays between her legs until she collapses boneless and sated against the mattress before crawling up her body to lay his head down on her chest, listening to her racing heart.

Her hand comes up to hold his head, fingers stroking around the shell of his ear. “Oh my God. I want to be mad at you, but I can’t even think.” She huffs out a breathless little laugh, and Scott turns his head just enough to press a kiss to her skin.

They lay there like that, enjoying the intimacy and comfort of each other’s embrace, before Scott can’t wait any longer to ask the question that’s been tumbling around his mind for the past few minutes – knocking down all his carefully built fantasies.

“Why don’t you want your mom to know about us?”

Her hand freezes in his hair as she tenses up. The silence seems to stretch on forever, during which Scott comes up with a million scenarios for how she’s going to tell him he’s a one night stand and kick him out, before she finally speaks.

“It has nothing to do with you.” Is the first thing she says, followed by, “My mom is the biggest gossip in the family. Even worse than Jordan, and that’s saying a lot. If she knows, then that means all my siblings do too, as well as their spouses. Your mom would definitely hear about it, she’d probably be first, actually, since they’re BFF’s now. And that means your whole family would know, and then suddenly it’s a giant group of people watching us and commenting and I don’t want that kind of… pressure. Not yet.” She takes in a deep breath and Scott waits for her to finish.

"But it has nothing to do with  _you_.” She reiterates, hugging his head and shoulders as best she can, and Scott shoves his hands underneath her so that he can embrace her in return.

“Okay.” He replies simply.

“Okay?” She asks, sounding slightly worried, like she’s expecting him to be angry or offended. But he is neither of those things. He completely understands where she’s coming from, and he likes their bubble too and wouldn’t mind it lasting a bit longer.

“Yeah, Virtch.” He props his chin up on her sternum so that he can look at her. “I get it.”

“Okay. Good.” She smiles in relief and Scott surges up to kiss her, tangling his tongue with hers for a moment before pulling back.

“I’m going to go make you breakfast.” He states, unable to ignore the rumblings in his stomach and guessing that she probably feels the same. Their dinner last night consisted of nothing more than slightly-above-average hors d’oeuvres and he could really go for a giant omelette or a stack of pancakes. He might not be the best chef in the world, but he can whip up a pretty mean breakfast buffet.

“Oh… that might be difficult. I have no food.”

Scott pulls back, horrified, “ _Nothing?”_

“Nope.” She says, popping her lips on the P and shrugging. "Not unless you want like... potato chips and milk." 

“Alright, then change of plans. Let’s take a shower and then we’ll go get something to eat.”

“ _Let’s_?” Tessa asks coyly. “As in, together?”

“Saves water.” Scott grins, climbing off of her to stand up before reaching out with his hand to help her out of the bed.

“Why, Mr. Moir, I never knew you were so environmentally friendly.” She teases, and Scott waggles his eyebrows at her. 

"I'm just full of surprises." 

 

It does not, in fact, save water when the shower takes twice as long as normal because neither person can keep their hands to themselves, as Scott discovers after his jellified legs nearly collapse onto the tile while Tessa stands up from where she was kneeling - looking like the personification of lust.

“Are you  _sure_  you want to go get breakfast?” She sits down on the edge of the bed in nothing but a towel, which is wrapped so loosely that Scott can see the slope of her breasts and the long line of her legs disappearing into the short hemline. He almost drops the pants he’s holding to walk across the room and join her, but then his stomach grumbles loudly, followed by hers, and they both laugh.

“Guess that answers my question.” Tessa says with a disappointed shake of her head.

“We go, we get breakfast, we come back here. Yeah?” Scott asks as he pulls his grey dress shirt on (he’s not sure where his white t-shirt disappeared to, but he has a feeling Tessa knows), leaving it to hang open since it’s missing a few crucial buttons. Tessa nods in agreement with his plan, and her smile is full of promise.

“Okay, I’m gonna run downstairs and change. I’ll be right back.”

“Sounds good.” She stands up, gives him a wicked smirk, and then drops her towel and walks towards her closet – adding an extra sway to her hips.

Scott groans loudly and forces himself to walk away.  _That woman will be the death of me, I swear. But oh, what a way to go._

 

He backs out of her apartment, shutting the door slowly so as not to disturb the neighbors, and when he turns around finds himself unexpectedly face to face with Holly, who is dressed like she's just returning from the gym.

She’s biting her lip, obviously trying not to laugh, and Scott knows he looks guilty as hell. Shoes and suit jacket in one hand, his shirt hanging wide open over his bare chest, pants wrinkled, and his hair still wet and wild from the shower. He couldn’t be more obvious if he had a flashing neon sign above his head that said, “I just had sex with Tessa. Multiple times.”

“Good morning.” Holly finally says, bright and cheerful, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Good morning.”

“How is Tessa today? Seems a bit early for a social call.”

“I just came over to borrow something.” He blurts it out, knowing how ridiculous it sounds and wishing he could join the ostriches in burying his head in the sand, and Holly’s laugh finally breaks free.

"Sure. ‘Borrow something.’ I can’t wait to tell Chiddy. He owes me twenty bucks next time he’s in town.”

“You and Chiddy had a bet on this?!” Scott asks in alarm, the thought never occurring to him that the two of them might talk about him behind his back.

Holly grins mischievously. “Maybe. Hey, some of us are going to a live music thing at the pub a few blocks over tonight. See if you can get Tessa to  _come_. I hear the  _climax_  will be worth it. The  _oral_  acoustics at this place are great, it’s supposed to really get your blood  _pumping_. Pleasure like you’ve never felt before.”

_"Holly!”_ Scott complains, his ears pink and his body flooding with mortification, but the woman just throws her head back with a laugh.

“Have a nice day, Scott.” She pats his arm sympathetically before walking down the hallway, and Scott grabs his phone and shoots off a text to Chiddy.

 

**Scott:** Whatever Holly tells you, ignore it.

 

**Chiddy:** …

 

Scott watches the little chat bubble that proves Chiddy saw his message, but his friend takes a few minutes to respond. Finally replying with:  

 

**Chiddy:** Sure thing, Tiger. ;)

 

Damn, news moves fast.

 

\-------

 

“This place looks like a rainbow threw up in the 1950’s.” Tessa says with a wrinkled nose as soon as they walk into The Friendly Toast, and Scott’s inclined to agree with her. Multi-colored vinyl barstools and bright green and blue walls plastered with pictures and stickers and James Dean staring at them from the far side of the room. It’s an assault on the eyes.

“I know, but it had great reviews." He explains, half-apologetic, half-not caring if this place looked like the inside of Professor Umbridge's office from the fifth Harry Potter movie. He can smell pancakes and waffles and that's all that really matters. 

The waitress hands them the menus and pours some water. Her eyes keep flicking over to Scott in the way he's come to recognize over the years. The universal sign that she's recognized who he is. Mentally he wonders how long it will be before she asks for a selfie or an autograph. 

“I’ll get the garden omelette with a side of fruit, please.” Tessa says confidently, primly folding the menu and handing it to the girl.

“I’ll get your monster breakfast with eggs sunny-side-up and bacon.” His appetite this morning is voracious, and he fully intends to spend the rest of the day working off all these calories with Tessa.

The girl,  _Andie_  - her name tag says, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and nervously smiles at him. "Absolutely, Mr. Moir, coming right up."

"Do you know her?" Tessa asks, sounding only mildly curious as she reads a text off her phone. 

"No, but I have a feeling she's going to introduce herself before the morning is over." Scott sighs, reaching for his glass and trying not to notice the way Andie is now tittering in the corner with one of the other waitresses and pointing at him. 

"Scott, why did Holly tell me to ask you if I'm coming tonight?" The abrupt subject change throws Scott for a loop, and he looks up to find Tessa with slightly pink cheeks and an eyebrow arched at him. "Please tell me she doesn't mean what I think she does." 

"Uh... if you think she's talking about music night at the pub, then yes. If you think she's talking about orgasms... that would also be yes." He cringes and quickly tells Tessa about the awkward interlude in the hallway that morning. 

"Oh God. You and I must be the only people who determine to keep their relationship private, and yet still end up the talk of the town  _on the same day_." 

"Well, I don't think Holly will tell anybody. And the cast already knows, remember?" 

"Knowing we're dating and knowing the exact moment we  _consummated the relationship_  are two very different things." Tessa says with a groan, dropping her head into her hand. 

"Here you go." Andie is back, placing their food in front of them with eyes only for Scott. "Anything else I can get you? Anything at all?" 

She's about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but a little too short and blonde and Not Tessa for his taste, so Scott smiles politely before firmly replying, "No, thank you." 

 

"I think she likes you." Tessa comments, neatly cutting her omelette into pieces before starting to eat it. "Not that I blame her." 

"Thanks? But there's only one girl in here who I want to like me." Tessa smiles sweetly at him, and Scott digs in haphazardly into the pancakes he'd ordered to stop himself from overturning the table and lunging across to kiss her. The food does the job - flavors bursting across his tongue in a way that has him diving back for seconds before he's even swallowed - and it momentarily subdues the large part of his brain telling him to throw caution to the wind and drag Tessa back home right now. 

"I don't think you need to worry about that. I'm pretty sure I know someone who likes you quite a lot." She reaches out and takes his hand across the table, and Scott feels suddenly lightheaded. It's amazing how such a simple touch can have this affect on him, and he's beginning to suspect that will never go away, not where Tessa is concerned. 

Their hands stay linked throughout the rest of the meal and beyond as they stroll down the street back home, stealing kisses whenever they can. 

 

"Here, take my picture real fast." Tessa hands over her phone. "I've got to make it look like I actually did something today or Jordan will get suspicious." 

"Don't you think Jordan is already suspicious?" He snaps a few photos before handing the phone back to her for approval. 

"Of course, but if I'm radio silent all day then she'll  _know_ , which is entirely different." 

"Come on, T, it's not like she's psychic." Scott rolls his eyes and chuckles, but Tessa fixes him with a serious face. 

"Clearly you don't have a sister. She'll  _know_." She takes a moment to post the photo, and it's only a few minutes later when she gets a notification. "See? Commented already with a leading question." 

"That's a little scary, you know that right?" Scott figures Danny and Charlie could guess the truth pretty quick, but only if they spoke in person. Scott's body language always gives him away. Something as simple as social media would never tip them off, but apparently there's an element of clairvoyance to the Virtue sisters' relationship. 

"Tell me about it." 

 

 

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?" He asks once they've walked in the front door. Tessa drops her keys in the bowl and kicks off her shoes, bending over to put them in place side-by-side, and Scott follows suit, lining his sneakers up next to hers. "Mini-golf? Go see a movie? 

Without warning she's grabbing him by the fabric of his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss before he has the chance to make any other joking suggestions - clearing his brain of all thoughts other than kissing her. 

"We did our duty. We went outside, got some Vitamin D, ate breakfast. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to ride you on the couch." She says it so politely that Scott snorts. 

"No, I don't mind." 

 

They don't leave the apartment again for the rest of the day, ordering a pizza when dinner rolls around so that they can stay in. Alternating spending their time watching Netflix and making each other reach completion time and time again (yes, Scott knows it's called Netflix and Chill, but he refuses to label it that in his head). Eventually they take another shower and fall into bed, exhausted in the best way, and as Scott drifts to sleep - Tessa wrapped up in his arms - he hums quietly:

_And you can tell everybody this is your song_   
_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_   
_I hope you don't mind_   
_I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_   
_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world_

 


	14. You'll be Dumb with Wonderment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with these two lovebirds. Time for more press for the show!

** Chapter 14: You'll be Dumb with Wonderment **

****

Tessa is the kind of person who likes being alone. Living, sleeping, watching TV, etc. – she prefers her own company to that of others. Not because she’s self-centered or doesn't like people, but because other people can be too stimulating, and with her day job being what it is, the last thing she wants at the end of the day is to have to continue socializing.

But not with Scott. Something about him is soothing. Comforting. He doesn’t want her to be anyone but herself. Doesn’t require anything from her but her quiet company. Together they can just... coexist, and it's wonderful. 

Their weekend together had been like something out of a dream. She already knew he was kind and generous and passionate and sensual, but she hadn’t been prepared for how that would translate into a relationship. Into the way he had sex. One hundred and ten percent committed to her happiness and pleasure. It was almost overwhelming, in the best kind of way, and she can feel herself falling for him. Falling in  _love_ with him. 

"Virtch, stop thinking so loud.” Scott mumbles into her neck where his face is currently buried. “We don’t have to get up yet.”

“I know. Sorry.” She whispers, gently running her fingers through his hair and trying to relax enough to go back to sleep.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just excited about seeing our theatre today.”

“Me too.” He agrees, voice slurred, “After we get more sleep.”

Tessa continues her gentle ministrations, lulling him back into slumber, but she’s too restless to fall back asleep now. Too consumed by thoughts of him and the upcoming day. She gets like this sometimes, too restless to sleep, and normally she’d be up and about cleaning or reading or going for a run, but with Scott tucked into her like he is, it would be cruel to move now, so she just lays there and waits for the sun to rise.

She remembers learning about love languages in her psychology class in college (she'd mostly paid attention to get a good grade) but the lesson had stayed with her over the years. Clearly Scott’s primary language is physical touch. _Haptic communication_ , her professor had called it. Vital for survival. Tessa hadn’t thought much of it at the time, had just taken notes and made her flash cards and aced her exams like a good student, but now… she thinks of the study where women under stress showed signs of relief merely by holding their husband’s hand, and thinks it might have some merit after all.

She likes laying here like this. Scott holding onto her, their legs tangled together. It makes her feel safe.

It's cheesy, but she can't help mentally singing to herself:

_Never knew I could feel like this_

_Like I've never seen the sky before._

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Everyday I love you more and more_

_Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings_

_Telling me to give you everything!_

It's the sweet, triumphant melody of Come What May that finally lulls her back to sleep in the arms of the man she secretly loves. 

 

\-------

 

Today is the big day when their theatre will be revealed and their reactions will be filmed for the producers to share on social media. They arrive at eight a.m. sharp (thanks mostly to Tessa) along with the rest of the cast and crew in Allen’s Alley behind the theatre where they’re greeted by the manager of the Emerson Colonial.

“Welcome to the Colonial Theatre!” She calls out, clasping her hands together, and everyone cheers. The excitement is genuine, even if they are playing it up a little bit for the camera. “We are so, so beyond excited to have you guys here and to have you be a part of the legacy of this amazing theatre. Without further ado, let’s get inside!”

They file in through the stage door one by one, heading inside and up the stairs. The interior is opulent. Golds and reds and shimmering chandeliers. There isn’t a single surface that doesn’t evoke a sense of grandeur and mirrors line the walls giving it an added sense of enormity. It feels like something you’d see in a grand opera house at the turn of the century – no expenses spared.

“This is where you guys get the sense of all that came before us, and all that’s going to follow.” The manager says, leading them through the lobby and towards the main entrances into the interior of the three-tiered theatre.

Scott and Tessa, as the leads, are the first to enter, arm in arm and with mouths dropped to the floor. The entire theatre glows red from the giant Moulin Rouge sign spanning the stage. A red windmill turns slowly at the top on the left, and a magnificent purple elephant stares down at them from the right. It’s as if the entire room has been transformed into the Moulin Rouge – inviting the audience to be a part of the story.

“Holy shit.” Scott mutters under his breath, and Tessa is inclined to agree. “This is the most amazing set design I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s beautiful. If Derek McLane doesn’t win a Tony for this, there’s no justice in the world.” Tessa agrees, squeezing Scott’s bicep and following him down the aisle towards the stairs up to the stage. Everyone behind them is tittering with awe and wonder, their phones held aloft (even though none of their personal footage is allowed to see the light of day) – it’s an experience they all want to remember forever.

“I can’t believe we get to perform here.” They’re at the front of the stage now, staring out over the rows and rows of red velvet chairs. “It feels like we’re at the actual Moulin Rouge.”

“No, it feels better.” Tessa says, eyes watering a little in a rare public display of emotion. “This is _our_ Moulin Rouge.”

“Yeah.” Scott agrees quietly, looping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close so that he can kiss the side of her head. “We made it, kiddo.”

It’s overwhelming, and Tessa knows eventually her anxieties will creep back in, but standing here right now, with him, in this magnificent place – she feels like she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

“Hey, you two, we’re gonna go check out the dressing rooms – you coming?” Holly calls up to them from the fourth row, and they follow her and the rest of the group through the back of the stage and down the hallway.

At the bottom of the first set of stairs is a white door with a sign that reads:

 

Tessa Virtue

_Satine_

 

It’s surreal, seeing it in print like that, and Tessa stops while everyone moves on to the ensemble rooms. Scott’s room is just across from hers, but he stays by her as she pushes the door slowly open and steps inside.

It’s not big, no dressing room is, but it’s got a couch and a vanity with a mirror surrounded by lightbulbs for the best lighting to put on make-up, and her own private bathroom. The walls and shelves are bare, but she’ll change that soon enough.

“It’s weird, having my own dressing room. I’m used to being in the ensemble with all the other girls – surrounded by chaos and laughter and group warm-ups. It’s so quiet in here.” Tessa confesses, fingers running across the back of a chair.

“I thought you’d like being alone.” Scott comments with mild curiosity.

“ _Living_ alone is one thing, but at the show I just… I guess I’m just feeling the pressure. And having my own dressing room… it just shines a bright spotlight on the fact that I’m leading this production. It’s crazy.”

“Come here, T.” He pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her securely without it being too tight, and she sinks into him willingly. He’s steady, just letting her know that he’s there with her. Breathing calmly so that she can sync up with him and relax. There’s that haptic communication again - Scott succeeding in relieving her stress just by hugging her.

“You’re an amazing Satine. Entirely yourself and entirely brilliant. The whole cast is supporting you, especially me.” He squeezes a little tighter for a moment, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “We’re gonna do this before every show so that you remember you’re not alone. We’re out there together.”

_I love you_. The words could fall so easily from her lips right now. So easily that she’s forced to clamp her jaw together so that nothing tumbles out by accident. She wants to tell him, but if he couldn’t bring himself to say it Saturday night, then he’s probably not ready to hear it from her so soon.

“Thank you.” She murmurs instead, kissing his shoulder in return.

“Anytime, kiddo. I’m here for you.”

“Ugh. You two. Every time I turn around you disappear together.” Holly stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring at them mockingly with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Every time _I_ turn around you’re there giving me crap about spending time with my girlfriend.” Scott shoots back and Holly grins.

“It’s a talent. I have a gift for torturing you.”

"Don’t I know it.” He mutters and Tessa elbows him in the ribs. He pouts at her and exaggeratedly rubs at the spot.

“We’re wanted on the stage so Alex and Derek can run us through the sets. Coming?” She tilts her head as if to chastise them like a teacher would, and Tessa laughs.

“Yes, Holly, we’re right behind you. We promise.”

“Here, I’ll make sure Tess doesn’t slow us down.” Without warning Scott steps in front of her and pulls her onto his back. She shifts around so that she’s more comfortable, riding piggy-back like she hasn’t done since she was a kid.

Scott gallops up the stairs towards the stage while Tessa’s laughter and squeals ring out through the hallways – Holly following close behind with her camera.

When Scott finally lets her down, Holly walks over and shows her the pictures. “I’ll send these to you. You should definitely post one. You guys are adorable.”

“It’s not too obvious?” Tessa knows the producers told them not to discourage people wondering if they're together, but she doesn't need the world digging into her personal life _too_ closely. 

“Just caption it with something about the theatre.” Holly suggests, and Tessa nods. She really does like the photo a lot. 

"Okay, I will.”

 

 

“Still planning on our birthday dinner tonight?” Tessa asks after shaking her head in amusement at Scott’s quick comment.

“Absolutely. You sure your boyfriend can spare you though?” Holly pokes her in the ribs, and Tessa pokes her back.

“We’re not attached at the hip, and tonight I want to celebrate my friend’s birth and general existence. He’ll just have to deal with that.”

“Ooh. Sassy Tessa. I like it.” Holly grins and steps closer to wrap her arms around Tessa from behind, calling out to Scott. “I’m stealing your girl tonight, Scottie!”

He rolls his eyes. “Just have her home by eleven!”

“Midnight!” Holly shouts back and Tessa just laughs.

Honestly, she’s so happy these days she wouldn’t mind if the premiere never arrived and they just lived in this happy little rehearsal bubble forever.

 

\-------

 

“That burger looks amazing.” Tessa eyes the mouthwatering feast that the waiter had just placed in front of Holly, dreaming about sinking her teeth into it.

“God, Tess, I can hear your stomach rumbling from over here. Why didn't you order one instead of that chicken caesar salad?”

“It’s _your_ birthday, not mine.” Tessa shoots back. “Besides, I needed something healthy after all the take-out Scott and I have been eating lately.”

“Hmm…” Holly looks at her a little too knowingly. “Staying in a lot, are you?”

Tessa considers lying, or trying to play it off, but this is Holly – the woman who helped her pick out lingerie for her boyfriend – so ultimately she decides against it. “Yes.”

“Good sex then? Scott seems like a generous lover.” She winks, sticking a huge steak fry in her mouth all at once with a happy little moan. 

“The best sex.” Tessa agrees with a satisfied smile, stealing a fry from Holly's plate.

Instead of teasing her like Tessa expects, Holly just smiles. “Do you love him?”

"I… Yeah, I think I do.” Tessa says quietly, picking up a crouton and munching on it – enjoying it so much more than the spinach it had been lying on top of, but not nearly as much as the fry.

“Have you told him yet?”

“No. It’s too soon. I don’t want to freak him out.”

Holly chuckles. “Tess, oh, Tess. You really have no idea.”

“We’ve never talked about _your_ love life.” Tessa quickly changes the subject, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of Scott’s feelings for her on a night they’re supposed to be celebrating Holly. “Is there anyone special at the moment?” She asks, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork while waiting for Holly to reply.       

“Not much to tell, I’m afraid. I was seeing this one woman for a while in New York. I thought we were pretty serious, or, at least, I was serious about her, but after two years she decided to go back to her ex-girlfriend.”

“Two years!?” Tessa exclaims. "That’s a long time to be with someone and then just up and leave."

"Yeah. It was complete bollocks, but I wasn’t going to try and force her to stay.” Holly shrugs. “I’m over it.”

“Well, that’s terrible. There’s no way her ex could be as amazing as you, or as gorgeous.” Tessa says with a smile, trying to bolster her friend.

“Thanks, love. You’re a great friend, you know that? I’m so glad you got cast as Satine and that I got the chance to know you.”

“Wow. What a sweet thing to say!” Tessa replies, incredibly touched. “I feel exactly the same way about you. I’m not great at making new friends, and you welcomed me right from the start. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“I couldn’t help it. You looked like Bambi, all _deer stuck in the headlights_. So nervous.” She teases, and Tessa laughs. She’s not wrong – that was exactly how she’d felt at the beginning. It's still how she feels sometimes. 

“You stopped me from being run over.” Tessa continues the metaphor with a chuckle.

“To friendship.” Holly says with a warm smile, holding up her drink.

“To friendship.” Tessa agrees, clinking her glass of wine against Holly’s martini. “And happy birthday.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The morning of Thursday June twenty-eighth Tessa, Scott, and Danny are all required to be in front of the Emerson Colonial bright and early for the grand opening and ribbon cutting.

Scott decides to wear a light blue button down shirt rolled up at the elbows and his navy suit pants and Tessa nearly drags him back to her apartment to have her wicked way with him. She’ll never be over the sight of him all dressed up, and if his smirk is any indication, he knows it.

Personally, she'd decided to go with wearing a white jumpsuit and heels, and she’s grateful her outfit is sleeveless when they’re standing outside – temperatures rising with the sun. Most days the weather in Boston is lovely, but sometimes they get hit with a wave of humidity that makes everything sticky and uncomfortable.

There’s a podium set up in front of the marquee and a short man in a grey suit with a maroon bow tie steps up to greet the small crowd that’s assembled (surprisingly, there’s a lot of teenage girls there - and Tessa expects they're here for the chance to glimpse Scott), “Good morning everyone! Thank you so much for being here. It’s quite a crowd. It’s lovely to see you all. I’m Robert Jones, I have the privilege of running marketing and publicity at Emerson Colonial Theatre for Ambassador Theatre Group. We are so thrilled that you are all here to celebrate this moment this morning, for the next chapter in our beloved Colonial. Please let me introduce the general manager of Emerson Colonial Theatre for Ambassador Theatre Group, Erica Lynn Schwartz.”

A dark haired woman in a bright pink dress takes his place at the podium, and Tessa can feel Scott’s fingers surreptitiously caress the back of her hand while they wait for her to begin speaking. Tessa looks at him out of the corner of her eye in warning. This is important and not the place for flirting.

"Good morning, good morning. Really, what a thrilling morning this is. We’ve all worked so hard to be here today. On behalf of the Ambassador Theatre Group, specifically our North American leadership, our – we are so honored to be here at this moment. We are so grateful. We’re grateful for Emerson College for entrusting us, and Ambassador Theatre Group to lead this wonderful building. We are so grateful to be raising the curtain on this cherished building once more and we are so grateful to the city of Boston for their unending support. Today marks the first moment that any of the public will see a peek at our restoration, when our box office lobby opens just after this event to purchase tickets in person and meet some of our incredible staff. We look forward to showing you this exceptional building and all that’s happened here when Moulin Rouge begins performances on July tenth. Woohoo!”

Everyone lets out a loud cheer, including Tessa and Scott, and he takes a moment to bump her shoulder with his. Honestly, he can't seem to go ten seconds without touching her in some capacity. 

The man, Robert, speaks again. “We are grateful to have the next set of speakers here with us today. It is in the middle of technical rehearsals, it’s very early in the morning, and incidentally it’s their day off, so we are very grateful that they are here. Please welcome the stars of the pre-Broadway world premiere engagement of Moulin Rouge the Musical.”

There’s more clapping and cheers as the three actors take their place behind the podium, and Scott opens up their little speech. “Hey everyone, we’re so honored to be here on behalf of the entire cast and crew of the Moulin Rouge.”

Tessa leans forward to add, “And to be reviving the tradition of bringing great musicals to Boston is truly a dream come true.”

The two of them lean back so that Danny can say his part, which is much longer. “We’ve only been here a few weeks, but we can feel the history in this building. This is the building where Oklahoma first premiered. Curly sang _Oh What a Beautiful Morning_ for the first time in this building. Julie and Billy fell in love and sang _If I Loved You_ for the first time in Carousel in this building. And, one of my personal favorites because I did the Broadway revival of Follies, the Wiesmann girls first walked down the sand. That’s just a few of the legendary moments from the shows that were created and performed here for the first time.”

Scott steps in smoothly as they’d briefly rehearsed yesterday afternoon when they’d found out they were supposed to be giving a speech. “And on the heels of that, for us to be here today after this incredible refurbishment and reopening of this place with our musical Moulin Rouge the Musical making its world premiere, we’re very excited to create our own moments, hopefully, that will live up to the grand tradition of the shows that have come before us here.”

“And as you know our show is about love and we have felt so much love from the city of Boston. We were told that the summers in Boston would be incredible, and they have not disappointed, so thank you.” Tessa says with a big smile, mentally tacking on  _incredible in more ways than one_ and sneaking a quick glance at Scott.

“We’re so honored to be here with the Ambassador Theatre Group, Emerson College, the city of Boston, and all of you.” Danny adds, before Scott steps forward again to wrap things up.

“And we’ll see all of you at the Moulin Rouge!”

The teenage girls seem to lose their minds at that, cheering wildly, and Scott steps backwards slightly in alarm. Tessa squeezes his hand just once where it’s hidden behind the podium. The poor man is just more popular than he knows how to handle sometimes.

There’s more short speeches before they finally roll out the blue ribbon, each of them holding up a section in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.

“Ready?” Robert asks, and they all cut the ribbon while yelling, “Away we go!”

Tessa tucks her piece into her pocket to save for her memory box. She keeps one for every show she does, and she’s not sure if she’s allowed to do that, but it’s a pretty big deal – being part of a theatre opening – and she wants to save a memento.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen that concludes our ceremony this morning.”

 

 

Later that night they’re curled up on Scott’s couch and Tessa has her feet resting in his lap while he mindlessly rubs them with one hand. The TV is turned on to Wheel of Fortune while they wait for it to transition into Jeopardy, as has become their new nightly tradition, and they’re eating the dinner they’d picked up from Panera Bread down the street. The commercials loudly advertise Life Alert and Aleve and walk-in bath tubs and Tessa is struck by the sudden image of the two of them sitting just like this with wrinkles and grey hair. 

“When did we become an eighty year old couple?” Tessa asks, mostly in amusement, but a little out of anxiety - does he think she's boring?

“What? What do you mean? Do I have _greys_?!” Scott’s hand flies to his hair in panic.

“No, no. I just meant… this.” She gestures to the both of them. “It hasn’t even been a week and we’re already so domestic.”

"Is that… bad?” Scott asks uncertainly, looking at her like he’s afraid she’s about to drop a bomb. Like she's going to get up and walk away.  _As if_. 

"No.” Tessa smiles reassuringly, “It’s nice.”

“Good. I think so too. I don’t mind being eighty with you.” He lifts up her leg to his mouth to kiss her ankle – stirring the ever-present arousal that simmers just under her skin for him.  _Maybe we aren't eighty quite yet_ , she thinks with a private smirk. She starts to sit up so that she can shift into his lap and heat things up a little more, when his attention is diverted back to the screen.

"Ooh! They have a Broadway category tonight. We’re gonna ace that, eh?”

She laughs, desire momentarily forgotten at his enthusiasm, and sits up beside him so that she can face the TV as well.

“Songs from Broadway musicals for $400.” A contestant says, and she can tell they’ve both committed to taking this category seriously now.

“The Schuyler Sisters and Ten Duel Commandments.” Alex Trebek says, and Scott scoffs immediately.

“Too easy. Hamilton. Next.”

“Prisoners of Love and Springtime for Hitler.”

“The Producers!” Tessa jumps in.

“Fish Schlapping Song and I’m Not Dead Yet.”

Tessa doesn’t know that, and neither do the contestants apparently, but after a second Scott says, “Spamalot?” and Alex Trebek confirms that he’s right and he gives out a little cheer.

"Dulcinea and The Impossible Dream.”

“Man of La Mancha!” They both shout out at once, jinxing the contestant who gets it right as well.

“Horace Green Alma Mater and Faculty Quadrille.”

"School of Rock!” Their voices yelling out the correct answer echo around the living room as Scott holds up his hand for a high-five that Tessa eagerly returns.

“I wish every category was like that. Then I’d always win.” Tessa says wistfully, sagging into his side.

“Where would the fun be in that? It’s all about the challenge.” Scott says with a nudge. “Speaking of, Final Jeopardy – what do you say we put a wager on it?”

“What do you have in mind?” Tessa sits up, always eager for a competition.

“Winner gets the first orgasm tonight, however they want it?”

“What if we both get it wrong?”

“Then we get consolation orgasms.”

Tessa laughs. “Okay, and if we both get it right?”

“Victory orgasms?” Scott suggests with a cheesy grin.

“I’m beginning to sense a theme here.”

“Come on, Virtch. What do you have to lose?” He needles, and she sees absolutely no reason not to agree to his idea. 

“Nothing, apparently. Seems to me I win no matter what.”

“Exactly.” He waggles his eyebrows and Tessa throws her head back with a laugh.

On the TV Alex Trebek reads out the final question, “A purported image of this subject of legend was published in the daily mail newspaper on April 21, 1934.”

“I think it’s the Loch Ness Monster.” Scott states. “You, T?”

“Hmmm… that’s a pretty good guess, but I think I’m going to have to go with Big Foot.”

They wait while the little jingle plays before the contestant in third place reveals his answer, the Loch Ness monster, and Trebek tells him he’s correct.

“Yes!” Scott stands up, pumping his fist in the air with a cheer.      

“Alright, how do you want it then?” Tessa asks, assuming he'll want a blow job and not disappointed in the least. She was being serious when she said either way she wins in this little contest. She enjoys giving him pleasure, and he always,  _always_ reciprocates. 

Scott reaches out for her hand and guides her into his bedroom. “It’s more what I want you to _wear_ while we do this.”

“Okay…” She starts imagining some sort of fancy lingerie or maybe one of the corsets that look like the ones in their show - a little roleplay, maybe? Scott pulls off his shirt, throwing it in the hamper, and Tessa takes a minute to enjoy watching his muscles flex and move while he rummages around his closet.

“Where is it… where is it… Aha!” He turns around with a triumphant smile and a big wad of bright white fabric in his hand.

“What is it?” She asks, curiosity turning to horror as he unfurls it proudly – revealing a baseball jersey with an elaborate D on the left breast.

“No.”

“Tess!” He whines, holding it out to her.

“No way.”

“Come on, T. You agreed to the terms fair and square.”

“That was before I knew all the details.” She shoots back, eyeing the garment like it’s toxic sludge.

“ _Please_.”

"I love you, but I’m not blowing you in a Detroit Tigers jersey.” She waits for his rejoinder, expecting more cajoling, but when she tears her eyes away from the shirt to look at his face she finds him slack jawed and staring at her like she’d just told him the best news in his life. Hadn’t he heard her refuse?

"What?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said-“ Oh. Shit. She’d told him she loved him. It had slipped out just like that without her even realizing. While they were discussing baseball jerseys and _blow jobs_ of all things.

Her face heats up and she knows she’s blushing scarlet red.

“I just… I meant…”

Scott drops the jersey and scoops her up in his arms, kissing her so tenderly – like she’s given him a precious gift. His hand comes up to hold the side of her head as he pulls back just enough to press his forehead against hers.

“I love you, too.”

“Really?” She asks, looking into his hazel eyes, full of hope and happiness and disbelief.

“Yes, really. I’m in love with you. I was just waiting to find the right moment to tell you.”

“I kind of blew that.” Tessa apologizes, and then they’re both laughing as they realize her accidental play on words.

“Not yet, but once you get that jersey on…”

She hits him lightly on the arm, “Not gonna happen, Moir.”

"Eh, I'm pretty sure I'll convince you eventually." 

 The corner of his mouth tilts up, and then he's kissing her and all thoughts of jerseys or anything outside his bedroom are forgotten as they get lost in each other and their happiness. 

 

 


	15. While Windmill Wings of the Moulin Shelter You and I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tinge of jealousy, a smidgen of smut, a whole lot of fluff.

** Chapter 15: While Windmill Wings of the Moulin Shelter You and I **

****

Scott is a professional.

He’s been acting on Broadway for almost twelve years and in that span of time he’s played the love interest of quite a few women (and the occasional man) and he’s never once had a problem with it. Never struggled with the separation between what’s real and what’s for the stage. Hell, he did a short stint as Melchior in the 2008 tour of Spring Awakening (with a stop in Toronto in front of his family, no less!) and managed to maintain a completely calm attitude about it. 

Stage kisses have become as common place to him as dialogue and choreography and they never mean anything more than something shared between two characters. He knows this. Everyone knows this. It’s just a thing that every actor learns and accepts and deals with. Another part of the job. 

He also knows that last night Tessa Virtue had told him she’s in love with him and that she meant it and that they’re incredibly happy and so, so good together.

But neither piece of information prevents his jealousy from resurfacing as he watches Tam attempt to seduce a now-in-full-costume Tessa as they rehearse _Sympathy for the Devil/You Can’t Always Get What You Want_ – their love scene inside the elephant at the end of Act One.

This is their first day all in costume, and Scott still hasn’t recovered from the sight of Tessa in each of hers. Her first one, and opener for the show, consists of a faux-diamond encrusted white vest with a V so low it nearly hits her bellybutton, bootie shorts, and a coat with tails and a top hat. It was like some kind of posh, vaudeville dream that Scott never knew he had come to life. She'd walked out of her dressing room, winked at him, and he was done for. The audience is going to fall apart for it when she comes down on the swing singing  _Diamonds Are Forever_. 

Now she’s in a soft light pink corset and garter belt and stockings, with a matching silk robe that hangs open around her, and Scott – the professional – can’t quite get over the jarring sight of her simulating sex with another man. A man who he’d been fiercely jealous of not too long ago.

Tam uses his most seductive voice, touches and caresses Tessa's body like his hands belong there, stroking up her thigh and ribs until he leans down over her and kisses her. Alex yells cut and begins to give direction to Tessa and Tam on how to make the scene even better and more believable, and Scott finally lets out the breath he'd been holding. 

Thank God he’ll be offstage during this part of the actual show, otherwise he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle seeing it night after night.

Not that he’s handling it particularly well now, but he’s trying.

“You need to relax, Scott.” Holly says as she props herself up against the wall next to him and watches the scene unfold. She wears her corset like a second skin and there's no question that she’ll be the most comfortable one on stage during this whole production.

“I am relaxed.” He unclenches his fists as he protests, although they tighten right back up again when he realizes that Tam is continuing to lie on top of Tessa while Alex talks to them, even though the polite thing to do would be to stand up and move away. Scott clenches his jaw so tightly that he's certain he's going to end up with a headache by the end of the day.

Holly scoffs, her eyes trained on him. “No, you’re not. But you need to be. This is her job – both your jobs – get over it.”

“As sympathetic as ever, I see.” Scott deadpans, and Holly turns to him with a look that says he’s being an idiot.

"I am sympathetic, I just think you need reminding of that fact. Eventually you’ll both move onto other shows and she’ll have to watch you make love to other women, and you’ll have to watch her with other men. It’s part of the life we’ve chosen.”

"I know.” Scott replies, annoyed and not particularly grateful for the reminder of the intricacies of their careers.

“So you’ve got to figure out if you trust her.” Holly says with a shrug. 

“Of course I trust her." Scott throws back with a glare. 

“Then act like it.” 

She's right, of course, but the thing is, Scott does trust her. He does. It's Tam he doesn't trust, or any of the other nameless men that Tessa might have to interact with in future. She's very easy to love, as Scott can attest to, and she's so kind and giving that he doesn't like the idea of her being taken advantage of - even if she had said that Tam is a harmless flirt. 

There's a green monster inside of him that makes him want to claim her at the sight of another man touching her, and he's not proud of it. Every time he feels the urge he can hear the Duke saying, "She is mine" in his sinister voice and it makes him ashamed to be thinking the same thing. But it's hard not to. 

"Here, come take a picture of us for me. It'll distract you." 

Scott follows Holly out into the foyer where Jacqueline, Jeigh, and Robyn are all sitting in their costumes and takes the phone when she hands it to him. He snaps a few photos and Holly makes him stay with her until she's posted it. 

 

\-------

“Alright guys, let’s take a quick break before we move onto the next scene.” Alex calls out and Scott sighs in gratitude. They’ve been going hard all morning and everybody could really use a break and something to eat.

The next scene involves Christian sneaking back into Satine’s room and their Elephant Love Medley duet, and Scott can’t wait to practice it again with the complete sets and costumes. It’s one of his favorite parts of the entire musical, and he'll finally be back on the stage with Tessa like he loves and prefers. Their scenes together are what make the show sparkle and come alive.

"Hey you." She greets him with a happy smile and a kiss on the cheek. "What did you think of the scene? I'm not sure we got the mood exactly right, but Alex says we're getting there. Although he also said I'm coming off too repulsed and that I need to tone it down." She drops her voice lower to mimic their director, "Satine is supposed to be interested in the Duke and what he has to offer right now, Tessa, the loathing comes later." 

Scott laughs, the knot in his chest loosening a little bit. "You're amazing, T. I love watching you perform. And you should be repulsed. He's awful." 

Tessa hits him lightly on the arm. "Satine doesn't know that  _yet_ , silly." 

"How long of a break do we have?" Scott changes the subject, an idea striking him that he wants to act upon immediately. A way to appease his more possessive urges and make this rehearsal break particularly nice for Tess. 

"About five minutes." Tessa replies, setting the timer on her phone. "I brought carrot sticks and apple slices. They're in my dressing room. Do you want some?" 

"Maybe later, right now I want something else." He grabs her by the hand and drags her down one of the hallways, looking for a good alcove or closet. They could go to one of their rooms, but that wouldn't be as fun. Or illicit.  

"Where are we going?" Tessa asks from behind him, following along willingly but clearly confused. 

"Here." Scott says when he finds a relatively empty storage closet. Pulling her inside, he flips on the light - casting dim shadows around the room - and moves to close the door, but it must need repairs because it only closes halfway. "This'll work." Uncaring that they might get caught (it adds to the excitement), he drops to his knees in front of her, placing his hands on her thighs. Making his intentions clear. 

“Scott, no. We don’t have time for that.” She closes her legs, clenching her knees together, but Scott runs his hands up under the hem of her robe – prying her legs open.

“Yes, we do.” He says confidently, and Tessa lets him widen her stance - not resisting, despite her protest. 

“Four and a half minutes.” She gulps and Scott smirks at her before surging forward and placing an open-mouthed kiss over her underwear – licking at her through the silky fabric. Her knees buckle under the sudden onslaught, but Scott uses his hands to support her, hiking one of her legs up over his shoulder before moving his hands backwards underneath her ass.

"Three minutes.” Tessa moans, biting down hard on her bottom lip.

Her costume is too complicated to take off her in such a short amount of time – which objectively is a good thing since they don’t want any accidental nudity on stage – but it’s inconvenient right now for what Scott wants to do. He has to make do with tugging her underwear to the side and licking at her over the fishnet stockings.

It’s a weird texture on his tongue, but Tessa doesn’t seem to mind. He moves one of his hands so that he can press against her center rhythmically with his knuckles, wishing he could pump them inside her, and Tessa starts writhing above him and bucking into him.

“One minute, T.” He mouths against her clit. “Better hurry.” He wraps his lips around it through the stockings and _sucks_. Hard. All the while providing pressure with his fingers. And she comes with a gush and muffled cry. Scott looks up just in time to see her biting down on the back of her hand – head thrown back in ecstasy.

Her chest is heaving and there’s a fine sheen of sweat coating the skin across the top of her breasts and Scott grins with pride when he hears the buzzer go off from somewhere on the floor where she’d dropped her phone.

He stands up and kisses her – stealing her breath and tangling his tongue with hers. “I told you we had time.”

"I can't believe you pulled me back here to steal a moment away and do  _this_." She says in disbelief, sounding sated and not at all disappointed or upset with what he'd done.

"I want every moment with you, stolen or not." Scott replies, leaning in close to place a few kisses underneath her jaw. 

"Quoting your character to me? So cheesy." Tessa teases with a grin, reaching up to softly stroke the shell of his ear and down the side of his face. “You owe me a new pair of stockings.” She tells him seriously.  "I'm not even going to try and explain this to the costume department."

He laughs and promises to buy her ten more pairs and leads her back to the stage. If her skin’s a little more flushed than usual, well they can just blame the hot stage lights.

They perform their scene, the playful back and forth of “We should be lovers!” “We can’t do that.” Until the song reaches its climax and they’re leaning in for their big romantic kiss. He slips his tongue in her mouth briefly – just enough for her to taste herself lingering there.

Oh yeah. He can handle this.

He’s a professional.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, bro, how's life treating ya?" Danny asks over the phone while Scott walks down the aisle at the grocery store, picking out the items Tessa had written down on the list for him, as well as a few things of his own. He’d promised her he’d start cooking more often – both to save their wallets, and their waistlines - and he also needs to pick up supplies for their picnic on Sunday to celebrate Canada Day. 

"Pretty good, man. How about you? How are the kids?" Scott props the phone between his shoulder and ear, awkwardly reaching up to grab a box of oatmeal off the shelf. 

"They're great. Charlotte keeps asking when  _Uncle Scottie_ is coming to visit. Did you decide if you're going to fly home this weekend at all?" 

Scott feels a pang of guilt. He misses his nieces and nephews and hates that he doesn't get to see them more often.  

“No. Flights were just too expensive on such short notice and Tessa has her heart set on going to the beach. We’re going to head out to Cape Cod instead.”

There’s silence on the other end before Danny says, “Tessa does, eh? Mom did mention you had a rather pretty costar this time around, but you've never talked about her before.”

Scott can tell that Danny is digging for information and he starts mentally calculating how to remove the foot from his mouth. “Yeah, she’s from London back home – neighbors, you know? So we kind of bonded over being Canadian. We’re friends.”

“So you’re not crushing on this girl?” Danny pries further.

Crush? No… he’s moved way past that, so he can honestly say, “Nope” With a clear conscience. Mostly. Danny doesn't need to know that the reason he's not 'crushing' on this girl is because he's ass-over-elbow in love with her. 

Frankly, Scott really just wants to sing that he loves her from the rooftops, privacy be damned, but he gets to do that during the show so he’s trying to reconcile himself to keeping their relationship a secret offstage. 

“Will we get to meet her at the premiere?”

“I’m sure you will. She kind of has to be there, after all.” Scott replies sarcastically.

“Great! I can see for myself what’s really going on then." Danny sounds entirely too pleased, and Scott feels nervous. He doesn't doubt that Danny will be able to see right through him. Danny has a special knack for it and Scott's not great at controlling the urge to touch Tessa whenever possible.

Blessedly, his brother changes the subject. "Moving on to equally important topics, let’s talk about how the Jays are going to trash the Tigers this weekend.”

“Ugh.” Scott groans, “Not you too. You and Tess are definitely going to get along.”

“A Jays fan, eh? I like her already.”

"If they win tomorrow, and on Canada Day, she'll never let me hear the end of it." That, and they have a bet riding on this. The teams will play three games against each other this weekend, and whichever team loses that person has to wear the winning team's jersey and Scott  _really_ doesn't want to have to wear royal blue. Especially since he's sure it will end up on Tessa's Instagram and he'll lose all his Detroit street cred.  

"Good. And it's not if, it's  _when_." Danny says with a laugh and Scott rolls his eyes. 

"You wish, eh, but it's not gonna happen." 

The ribbing lasts until Scott reaches the check-out line and then he has to hang up so that he's not  _that guy_ who holds up the line while talking on the phone. It was nice though, talking to his brother, even with all the teasing. He misses Danny and Charlie a lot and every time he goes home to visit he gets hit with that weird mixture of nostalgia and longing for the kind of life they have. A family, house, dog - the quiet life in Ilderton. Nearing thirty-one years old, Scott knows he's still got time, but he can't deny that kind of life is becoming increasingly appealing. 

Only now instead of a vague, hazy outline of a woman by his side he sees dark hair and vibrant green eyes and a smile that brightens his whole day.  _Tessa Moir_. He rolls the name around in his head while he waits for his turn in line (there already  _is_ a Tessa Moir, of course, but it sounds entirely different when it's _his_ Tessa). Although maybe she'd want to be Tessa Virtue-Moir, or want him to be Scott Virtue. Frankly he'd be fine with whatever she chose, as long as the end goal is the same: his ring on her finger and a promise of forever. 

"Do you have any coupons, sir?" The cashier asks, looking at him like she's already had to ask a few times, and Scott blushes.

"No, sorry." 

He's so far gone on Tessa it's getting a little ridiculous.

 

* * *

 

Sunday morning dawns sunny and beautiful and with minimal humidity. In other words, it's a perfect New England day and Scott can't wait to enjoy every minute of it at the seaside. He's rented a car for him and Tess and bought enough food to feed a small army and he's currently wearing his Home Is Canada t-shirt and some black swim trunks. He'd thought about wearing red ones, but he doesn't want to be  _too_ obvious with his patriotism - Tessa already teases him for his rather substantial collection of Canadian themed apparel as it is. 

He's just putting the sandwiches into Ziploc bags when the instrumental version of  _Your Song_ starts playing - his ringtone for Tessa (yes, she'd teased him about that too) - and he picks it up, fully intending to answer with a cheerful "Good morning," but not getting the chance. 

“Scott, why did your mom send a box of maple shortbread cookies addressed to both of us to my apartment?” Tessa asks straight away, not sounding annoyed exactly, but she's not pleased either. 

Scott, however, has more important priorities at the moment than shipping labels. “She sent you some of those!? Oh man, we are definitely taking them with us today. I’ve been asking for her shortbread cookies for weeks. They're so good, Virtch, you're gonna love them.”

“I agree we should take them. They smell delicious. But you’re missing the bigger point here. We don’t live together.” Tessa states, bringing him back to the problem at hand. 

“Oh. Right.” Honestly, they’ve been spending so much time together that he’s kind of forgotten they don’t share a living space.

“She sent a note that says, and I quote, _Dear Scott and Tessa, I hope the rehearsals are going well and that you’re both getting enough rest. We all can’t wait to see you both at the premiere. Happy Canada Day! Love, Alma_.”

“Well… it’s a nice note. She’s probably just being thoughtful.” Scott suggests with a sigh, knowing full well his mother is playing tricks and up to no good. He’s half surprised there isn’t something from Kate in there as well as part of an elaborate Team Up attempt at fishing for information.

“It is thoughtful.” Tessa concedes. “But if this is what she’s like _now_ , can you imagine how it will be when we tell them that we’re together?”

“When will that be, exactly?” Scott can’t help but ask, knowing that he’s risking his luck by pressing her.

She surprises him by giving him an actual answer this time. “I was thinking August, when the musical ends. It gives us some private time in our bubble before all that outside pressure descends. Is that okay with you?”

He grins, even though she can’t see him, “Yeah, that’s okay with me. August twentieth – I’ll circle it on my calendar.”

"Perfect." He can hear her smiling too, and now that they've set a date it's like a weight lifts from his shoulders. "In the meantime, can you please remind your mother where you live? And also tell her thank you from me." 

Scott laughs, "Sure thing, T. I'll text her right now and be up to get you in a second." 

 

 **Scott:** Hey, Mom, Tess says you sent her cookies by mistake. Did you forget my address somehow? It's #414, not #517. (Also, she says thank you).

 

 **Alma:** I didn't forget. And you're both very welcome. :)

 

 **Scott:** I don't live with Tessa, Mom. 

 

 **Alma:**  Yet. 

Scott sighs and rolls his eyes, but he's not really upset. His mom is... well, she's Alma Moir, and he learned a long time ago that underneath her quiet, kind, wonderful exterior, she's the boss. 

 

 

He knocks on Tessa's door twenty minutes later, keys and cooler in hand, and when she opens the door he promptly bursts out laughing. 

She's standing there in denim shorts and a cherry red swimsuit with matching red-rimmed sunglasses hanging from the neckline and a bright red Canada hat on her head. Even her flipflops are white with red straps.

"What's so funny?" She asks, scrunching up her nose and tilting her head and looking all-together adorable. 

"Nothing, it's just - I was so worried about looking  _too_ Canadian that I tried to tone it down, and you show up like this." He waves his hand up and down, gesturing at her ensemble, and Tessa puts her hands on her hips and frowns. 

"Scott, you are walking 'Mr. Canada' every single day. I'm just trying to show a little patriotism on our actual holiday." 

"I know. It's wonderful and I love it. I love you. It's just funny that I was so self-conscious about wearing any red." Her cheeks turn a little pink, still not used to hearing him say he loves her so casually, and Scott grins and leans in to kiss her. "My little Canuck." 

"You're ridiculous." 

"I know." He shrugs happily. "Shall we go?" 

 

The beach is Tessa's happy place. That is something Scott is quickly coming to realize is an important fact about her. The closer they get to the water (Boston is close, but there aren't any decent beaches in the city), and the more relaxed neighborhoods of Cape Cod, the happier Tessa becomes - and she was already happy to begin with so that's saying something. 

They park the car and carry their supplies down to the beach and Tessa has her shorts off and is heading towards the ocean before Scott even has a second to start setting up. 

She looks so beautiful and carefree that he can't resist calling out to her and snapping a picture when she turns around to answer - a wide smile gracing her face. 

"Do you mind if I post this?" He calls out, and Tessa shakes her head - already running through the waves and laughing. 

He considers captioning it "Find your nearest Canadian and show them some love," but ultimately decides that would be too obvious, so he changes it to something more innocuous and then throws his phone down on the blanket and covers it with his t-shirt in a shoddy attempt at security before heading out to join Tessa in the water. 

 

 

They swim and laugh and eat and make-out and all-in-all Scott is pretty fucking satisfied with his life. He lays down next to Tessa on the beach towels, folding his hands under the back of his head and enjoying the warm sun and the beer (Molson, of course) settling pleasantly in his stomach. 

"This has been the best Canada Day I've ever had outside of Canada." Tessa sighs happily, lying on her front while she soaks in the sun rays - making sure to turn over every twenty minutes for an even tan. Every once in a while she asks him to reapply sunscreen, a command he happily follows, but other than that she seems content to lie there in peace. By some miracle, they have most of the beach to themselves today and Tessa told him it was exactly what she needed to rejuvenate her soul. 

Scott leans over to kiss her shoulder, before pulling out his phone to check the score of the Tigers/Blue Jays game. The Jays had beaten them yesterday 4-3, but he has a good feeling about today. 

"What's the score?" Tessa asks, voice muffled by her arm. 

"... Remember how ten seconds ago you said this was the best day ever?"

She opens one eye to look at him suspiciously. "Yeah...?"

"Try to hold onto that feeling."

"How bad is it?" She asks hesitantly. "Are the Jays down by like, two or three?" 

"Um... try eight." 

"What!?" She shoots up, scrambling onto her knees and crawling over to steal his phone and see for herself. "Are you kidding me!? How can the Jays be losing nine to one!?" 

"Try to remember those happy feelings, Virtch." Scott reminds her, but his attempt at soothing her falls short - inhibited by the triumph that he can't help creeping into his voice. 

" _Happy_!? This is terrible! How can the Jays let me down _today_ of all days?" 

"I don't think it's so bad. Just think how amazing you're gonna look in that Tigers jersey." He smirks at her and she slumps down onto her butt with a resigned huff. 

"There's still one more game tomorrow. We'll win that one and then you'll be sorry." 

 

 

On July 2nd the Jays lose 3 to 2 in a close nail-biter game that has them both sitting on the edge of their seats right up until the end of the ninth inning. At first, when the umpire calls the game and the teams shake hands, Tessa stomps off into Scott's bedroom in a rage and he's a little worried that she's tearing his jersey to pieces, but when she emerges a few minutes later she has it on and he loses the ability to speak when he realizes she's wearing it and  _nothing else_ \- which had not been part of the deal (he wanted to win, not, like, humiliate her) - but apparently Tessa is giving him a GIFT tonight because this is the subject of one of his most frequent fantasies.

"You get me for ten minutes like this, Moir. Use it wisely." 

And oh, he does. 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken a few liberties with the costumes - they don't all exactly match what's in the real show - but I figured you guys won't mind. ;)


	16. Hey Sista, Go Sista, Soul Sista, Flow Sista

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter! Opening night approaches...

** Chapter 16: Hey Sista, Go Sista, Soul Sista, Flow Sista **

****

“Tessa, love! You made it!” Holly calls out, running down the dock towards her with a wide smile. “And you brought cupcakes? I didn’t know you baked. These look amazing!”

Tessa looks down at the elaborate array of red, white, and blue cupcakes in the large white box she’s carrying and laughs. “I don’t. These are from Georgetown Cupcake on Newbury Street.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.” Holly winks. “Wait until you see what everyone else brought. I’m pretty sure that Kyle bought out an entire liquor store.”

"Of course he did.” Tessa says with a chuckle. “Sometimes I look at him and wonder how he ever got hired onto such a wholesome show as Anastasia.”

“He’s going to go back there at the end of August and have no idea how to behave.” Holly agrees. 

The girls laugh as Tessa follows Holly down the wooden walkway towards the giant yacht they’d all pitched in and rented for the holiday. It turned out that Danny was an avid sailor and he promised that he could take them around safely for a day. And since the cast wanted one last hurrah before opening night it seemed like the perfect plan.

She steps onto the boat and is greeted by a loud chorus of “Tessa!” from everyone aboard, many of whom seem to have already dipped into the liquor stash, if their mimosas and easy grins are any indication.

“Jacqueline’s below at the bar playing mixologist, and she’s actually quite good at it.” Holly explains, before getting pulled away by Ricky to sing a duet with him while he strums his ever-present guitar.

“Where’s our fair Scott this morning?” Tam asks, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"He’s coming. We got in the Uber and he realized he’d forgotten his phone.” She explains with an affectionate eye roll. It was her fault really, they’d woken up in plenty of time, but then he’d just looked too good not to take advantage of the morning. After that they’d needed a shower, which they’d taken together to try and save time, but it most definitely did _not_ save time. All-in-all a satisfying morning, even if by the time they’d made it out of the door they were way behind schedule and had been in a mad dash to get to the harbor.

"Pity.” Tam says before grinning lasciviously at her. “Do you want to see a picture of the girls I was with that night?”

“Oh God. Girls plural? Seriously?” Tessa asks. She's used to his antics by now but not impressed.

Tam holds out his phone, stepping in close to her side to show her the picture of him with his arms around two busty brunettes. “Sandy and Sadie. Twins. It was like something out of-“

"Nope. That’s enough. Congratulations on your fun evening.” Tessa shoves him away and he stumbles with a loud, booming laugh.

“Hey Virtch, Tam.” Scott hops down from the deck onto the boat beside them, looking and sounding like he’d just been running. “What’s going on?”

“Tam was just being gross.” Tessa explains, leaning up to greet Scott with a kiss on the cheek, even though she saw him twenty minutes ago. It should probably be embarrassing, just how much she wants him all the time. How much she enjoys the simple pleasure of his company.

“Ugh. You two are gross.” Tam objects. “So _domestic_.”

Scott throws his arm around her shoulders with a grin. “That’s us. Just a couple of old fogeys. Never do anything exciting.” He looks down at her with a twinkle in his eye, and Tessa knows he’s remembering the rather exciting thing they’d done last night with one of her silk scarves.

“Yep. Scott and I are just a boring old couple.” Tessa agrees, grinning conspiratorially at Scott, and Tam makes a noise of annoyance and walks off.

Scott watches him go, looking like he doesn’t regret him leaving for a second, and Tessa wonders briefly if they’re going to have to have another chat about jealousy at some point.

"So my mom FaceTimed me while I was on my way over here.”

“Oh yeah?” Tessa lets him lead her by the hand over to one of the white cushy seats lining the side of the top deck of the boat.

“Yeah. She actually asked me if I was on my way to meet you for brunch. I told her it was a party with the whole cast and she said, _t_ _hat means Tessa though, right? So I’m not wrong._ ” Scott quotes his mother in a weird, high-pitched voice and Tessa busts up laughing.

“I refuse to believe your mother sounds like that.”

"She does when she’s fishing for information.” Scott shoots back with a smile. “I think we’re going to have our hands full on Sunday and the days following after that.”

Their families are due to arrive Sunday to stay for a few days and support them at the premiere of the show. Tessa’s trying to remain confident that they can keep them from suspecting anything, but with both their mothers being this nosy and visiting at the same time, well, she knows they have their work cut out for them.

"I don't know about that. You keep telling me I'm an amazing actress - I think we can fool them." Tessa says with a confidence she doesn't feel. 

"You overestimate my ability to keep my hands off you, T." Scott leans in to kiss her underneath her jawline, and Tessa lets out an involuntary moan.

"That's not your hands. That's your mouth." 

"Sorry, you're correct." He reaches up to caress her cheek and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "That's my hand." 

She rolls her eyes and leans in to kiss him. "You're incorrigible."

"And you love me." 

 "Yeah, I do." She smiles softly at him. "Let's not think about this weekend, let's just focus on today." 

Tessa knows if she lets them her thoughts will spiral into uncontrollable worry, and she doesn't want that today. Today all she wants to think about is spending time on the water.

It’s glorious weather and a beautiful day. The warm sun, the wind in her hair, the smell of the salty breeze, the sight of the city in the distance – reflected by the water of the harbor. Truly there is nothing that could make her happier right now.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.” Scott jumps up and heads downstairs into the interior of the yacht before returning with two tall glasses of something pink and fruity. “Here T, I thought this might be nice.”

He hands her a glass of some boozy strawberry smoothie concoction that Jacqueline made before sitting back down and tucking her into his side, and Tessa realizes she was wrong. _Now_ she couldn’t be happier.

 

 

The afternoon passes in a haze of jokes, drinking games, and indulging in all of the food that everyone brought to share. At one point Holly and Tam sing out a rather loud, enthusiastic version of _God Save the Queen_ while drinking Long Island Iced Teas that has everyone roaring with laughter before Robin yells, "Revolution!" and pours one of the glasses over the side of the boat.

By the early evening the yacht turns into a big dance party and Tessa excuses herself to sneak away to the bow of the ship for what peace and solitude she can find – needing a chance to recharge her batteries. They still have a few hours before the fireworks show is due to start and although she loves everyone, they can be a bit much.

Leaning over the railing, she stares down at the water below, at the ripples the rocking of the boat creates, at the way the sunlight dances off the waves, and feels her anxiety starting to build.

Two days. Two days before their first show in front of an audience. Not a real audience, mind you, they might be forgiving of any faults, but one made up of critics and producers and Broadway big-whigs and basically all the people who will make or break the play. Who hold their success in their hands.

She’s been trying not to let it get to her, but in the quiet moments she can’t help but dwell on how much is riding on her performance. She hasn’t been the lead before – not in something where she’s supposed to sing – and Tessa can’t help but wonder _why_ people put themselves through this trauma. It's terrifying. 

“Here you are.” Scott says quietly, walking up to join her – leaning casually against the rail and facing her without touching. Somehow knowing that it might be overwhelming for her right now. “Everything okay?”

“Yep! Just taking a break from all that.” She gestures back towards the mosh pit going on at the stern of the boat, and Scott huffs out a laugh.

“I don’t blame you. Whoever let Kyle bring booze and Jacqueline make the drinks was crazy. It's a lethal combination. We’ll be lucky if anyone remembers this tomorrow."

As if to prove his point, they hear Holly yell out, “For queen and country!” and turn just in time to see her down three shots in quick succession.

“Holy shit.” Scott mutters, and Tessa hums in agreement.

“She’s going to be trashed tomorrow.”

“Tessie!” Holly sees them watching and waves her hand wildly before jumping down from the bench she’d been standing on and running over to join them, immediately pulling Tessa into a bone-crushing hug. “I missed you.”

"I’m right here.” Tessa pats her back indulgently, mouthing _help me_ at Scott, who’s holding his hand over his mouth and trying not to laugh.

“You guys are so cute together. I just love you both. I love that you’re happy. Here, let me take a picture.”

“Can you even see straight?” Scott asks, and Holly tries to hit his arm, but misses and sort of limply smacks his ribs instead.

“Just stand next to your girlfriend, Moir.”

“No, wait, I have a better idea.” Scott moves to the railing and pulls Tessa’s arms around from behind before holding his straight out to the side. “I’m flying Jack!” He yells out over the water, and Holly snaps a few pictures even as she struggles to stand straight, her laughter bubbling up out of her uncontrollably. Tessa can’t help but grin as well – her earlier anxieties forgotten for the time being.

 _Scott's good at this_ , she thinks. Good at distracting her and making her feel better. Seems to intrinsically know what she needs, and she loves him even more for it - her heart swelling with emotion as she watches him laugh over the pictures with Holly.

"This one. Post this one. T's smile is beautiful in it." He suggests to Holly, and Tessa finds she doesn't even mind what's being shared on social media today. If it makes Scott happy, it makes her happy too. 

              

 

               

As the sun sets Danny pulls the boat around and they can hear the sounds of big band music carrying out over the harbor as the city prepares for its big firework show. At the cockpit Danny fiddles with the stereo to find the matching broadcast, and when he does the triumphant sounds of _Stars and Stripes Forever_ play loudly throughout the ship.

The last sliver of the sun slips behind the horizon, and the first fireworks shoot up into the air – bursting into an array of golden showers. Scott wraps his arm around her in a side-hug while they watch the amazing sight in front of them. Boston really goes all out for the holiday – being the birthplace of the Revolution – and it’s truly a sight to behold.

Tessa buries herself further into Scott’s side while they watch, and after a few moments he leans in close to whisper-sing, “Cuz baby you’re a firework, come on show ‘em what you're worth…”

She tilts her head up to smile and kiss him. Soon she’ll be crying as she sings an emotional version of that song every night in front of an audience, but right now, in his arms with literal fireworks exploding all around them, she feels unstoppable.

 

* * *

  

Unfortunately, the feeling doesn’t last. Tessa finds that out the hard way as her vision starts to resemble a tunnel – rimmed black as her lungs feel like they’re constricting.

She’s in her dressing room, all done up in her first costume of the night, and the show is about to start in five minutes. The show in front of all the critics that simply, absolutely, cannot go wrong.

_Oh God, please, not now. Please._

“Tess? Are you in here?” She hears Scott calling to her outside her door, but she can’t bring herself to go open it. Her hands remain firmly gripped to the edge of her vanity as she tries to gain control over her breathing.

All these people tonight are here to write about the show. To tell the world if this cast and director can do the impossible – turn a beloved movie into a stage play. To reveal whether or not Scott and Tessa can compare to Ewan and Nicole. It’s essential that she be perfect tonight.

And that’s what has her spiraling.

Suddenly she feels two arms embrace her from behind and she’s surrounded by the familiar scent of clean soap and maple shortbread. _He must have snuck some into his dressing room_ , Tessa manages to think, before her brain twists up again.

“Breathe, Tessa.” Scott whispers in her ear, but it’s like she’s hearing him from deep under water. She’s can’t respond. She can’t even move.

He pries her hands off the desk and turns her around so that she can latch onto him instead, which she does like a needy koala bear. “Breathe with me.” He commands, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply, and Tessa tries to focus all of her efforts on mimicking him. Until the water recedes and she can think clearly again.

“Now,” Scott begins once he can tell she’s not panicking quite so much anymore, “Do you want to tell me what brought this on, or should I guess?”

“What if I’m awful and I forget all the words and the notes come out wrong?” She speaks hastily in a small voice, giving a voice to her deepest fears. “What if I was never meant to be an actress and should have stuck with ballet?”

“Tess, I know I’m a little biased here, but as your fellow costar and a long-time actor, I can say with all confidence that this is what you were meant to do. You’re amazing, and those people out there will think so too. And when we open officially, you’re going to bring nothing but joy and maybe some tears to the audience.”

Tessa stays silent for a moment, letting his words sink in before replying. “You’re the perfect Christian, and the best boyfriend, and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses the top of her head and squeezes her tighter for a second before letting her go. “Come what may?”

She giggles and nods. “Come what may.”

 

\-------

 

**Review: Hit Songs to Sin By in a Smashing ‘Moulin Rouge!’**

BOSTON — The jukebox has exploded.

 

_Its pieces zoom through the air like candy-colored shrapnel, whizzing by before the memory can tag them and making the blandly familiar sound enticingly exotic. I’m talking about the recycled pop hits, mostly of a romantic stripe, that make up the seemingly infinite song list of “Moulin Rouge! The Musical,” at the Emerson Colonial Theater here._

_By the end of this smart, shameless and extravagantly entertaining production, adapted from Baz Luhrmann’s 2001 movie, you’ll think you’ve heard fragments of every Top 40 song of lust and longing that has been whispered, screamed or crooned into your ear during the past several decades. You may even believe that once upon a time you loved them all._

_Part of the genius of Mr. Luhrmann’s original version — which starred Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor as doomed lovers in a Bohemian, fin-de-siècle Paris — was that it put mainstream, latter-day radio songs into the context of a verismo costume opera like “La Traviata.” Not for nothing was Elton’s John’s “Your Song” the ballad most memorably shared by the film’s leading lovers._

_That’s because it was your song, too. By dressing up the melodies you sang in the shower in opulent gaslight-era drag, Mr. Luhrmann created an equalizing paean to love ballads of all ages. The soundtrack of the commuter’s daily life acquired a purple grandeur, with Bowie, Labelle and Madonna assuming the velvet cloaks of Verdi and Puccini._

_It’s been 17 years since this odd duck — or rather peacock — of a film first jolted international audiences. You may also recall that its arrival on screens coincided with the Broadway opening of “Mamma Mia!,” heralding an endless and wearying procession of jukebox musicals._

_In the interim, the world has been treated, on screens big and small, to the life-as-a-mixtape antics of “Glee,” “Smash” and “Pitch Perfect.” All owe a debt to “Moulin Rouge!,” which would seem to imply that a stage version of Mr. Luhrmann’s film would by now be too late for the party._

_But the creators of this presumably Broadway-bound, $28 million spectacle — directed with wit and heart by Alex Timbers, with seductive, funny choreography by Sonya Tayeh — have tinkered artfully with their archetype, translating the cinematic splendors of Mr. Luhrmann’s universe into more earthly pleasures. This “Moulin Rouge!” captures the sensibility of a movie-loving movie in a theater lover’s language._

_The glamour is still here, but there’s a lot more grit. And we’re far more aware of the mortal flesh of the characters. This show also knows that a lot of new songs have flowed under the earbuds since 2001, and the list of those now included occupies three columns of infinitesimal type in the program._

_Among them are hits from Lady Gaga, Florence and the Machine, OutKast, Lorde, Sia, Beyoncé, Pink, Britney Spears, Adele and Katy Perry, for starters. (You may pause here to bow your head to Justin Levine, the show’s music supervisor.) There are also some new repurposed oldies, so when the villain of the piece (the sadistic Duke of Monroth, played to the hilt by Tam Mutu) is allowed to introduce himself it’s with the opening lines of the Rolling Stones’s “Sympathy for the Devil.” Mr. Mutu is so perfectly juxtaposed with Mr. Moir, that it almost feels as if there's real animosity there._

_The heroine is still named Satine, and she’s still the vedette of the louche nightclub of the title, which is run by her old pal, Harold Zidler (Danny Burstein, delivering a master class in pandering, sentimental seediness). On film Satine was embodied with a porcelain fragility and Marilyn-esque breathiness by Ms. Kidman, a silver-screen phantasm about to evaporate._

_Here she is played in a more realistic key by a sensational Tessa Virtue and no matter how bare her costumes, this Satine is wearing her sex appeal like a suit of armor. In John Logan’s baldly written (and still trimmable) new book for the show, Satine is a feral survivor of the streets who began turning tricks at 13. Like Harold, her partner in deception, she sees love — or the illusion of it — as a commodity for profit._

_This transactional element is signaled from the get-go. Derek McLane’s fab psychedelic valentine of a set — a cornucopia of nesting pink hearts — is on full display when the audience arrives. And it is soon inhabited by corseted men and women with proffering gazes. (The plush, sin-ready costumes are by Catherine Zuber.)_

_Men with top hats and phallic cigars join these creatures of the night. Two women move to the edge of the stage to slowly swallow swords as they caress each other’s thighs. And when Mr. Burstein’s Master of Ceremonies raises his cane, it spurts confetti over the audience. He promises that he and his crew can service you, “no matter your sin, no matter your desire.”_

_And then there’s that smashing little rendition of an immortal ode to the working girl, “Lady Marmalade,” performed as delicious raunch-and-roll by Robyn Hurder, Holly James, Jacqueline B. Arnold and Jeigh Madjus._

_At this point, you may think you’ve wandered into a Gallic variation on “Cabaret,” or immersive naughty nightclub pieces like “Queen of the Night.” And when Ms. Virtue makes her entrance on a trapeze, singing “Diamonds Are Forever” with a Shirley Bassey huskiness, she is just the sort of flower that would grow from such fecund soil._

_But wait. There’s a young man who sees her soul beneath the spangles, and who exudes the glowing naïveté of an American innocent newly arrived in Sodom. That’s Christian (a shining Scott Moir, in the role created on screen by Mr. McGregor), a penniless composer, who’s been brought to the Moulin Rouge by his newfound friends Santiago and Toulouse-Lautrec (Ricky Rojas and Sahr Ngaujah, both delightful)._

_That blissful sequence, which comes at the beginning of the overlong second act, is part of the show-within-the-show: a musical melodrama with songs by Christian and a script by Toulouse-Lautrec, with Satine as the star and the Duke as the producer._

_It becomes the vehicle through which Satine, who has become the Duke’s mistress, and Christian act out their purer love, which is too radiant for this dingy planet. Will the duke twig on and destroy their love — not to mention the show, which is meant to save Zidler from bankruptcy?_

_You probably know the answers. But even if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll probably still be surprised by the triumphant ways in which recent pop standards have been reclaimed for the stage. Mr. Burstein leads a fabulous rendition of Florence and the Machine’s “Shake It Out,” the Moulin Rouge’s answer to “Put on a Happy Face.”_

_And Ms. Virtue and Mr. Moir, in roles they were born to play, possess such tangible chemistry together that every scene they’re in crackles with emotion and intimacy that feels almost voyeuristic to watch. Together they make you feel every soaring high and devastating low that Satine and Christian experience together. They make you believe in beauty, truth, freedom, and love._

_Virtue and Moir make contemporary aural wallpaper like “Firework” (Ms. Virtue), “Roxanne” (Mr. Moir) and “Crazy/Rolling in the Deep” (both) sound like impassioned, personal cris de coeur that their characters might have invented on the spot and out of necessity. Their voices complement each other perfectly, and these songs are their songs, which somehow makes them, more than ever, your songs, too._

 

Alex finishes reading the article and everyone breaks out in a round of cheers and applause and even a few wolf-whistles.

“Great job everyone. We couldn’t have asked for a better start to the show. And a big congratulations to our Satine and Christian – who were absolutely perfect.”

Tessa blushes at the attention and holds on tightly to Scott’s hand, and he nudges her shoulder. “We did it, T. I told you it would be amazing.”

“Go enjoy your weekends, and I’ll see you all bright and early Tuesday morning to get ready for opening night!” Alex shouts, eliciting another round of applause before everyone slowly disperses to enjoy their last few days of freedom until August nineteenth.

 

* * *

 

Tessa watches the Arrivals board inside the terminal, anxiously keeping an eye on the flight listing for Toronto. Watching as it changes from  **On Time** to  **Arrived** , periodically checking her watch as she waits for everyone on the plane to disembark. Realistically she knows she's plenty early and that they all have to go through customs, but she stills bounces on the balls of her feet as she waits. 

Eventually a familiar face appears and then it's shouts of “Tessa!” and there’s a lot of screaming and a mad dash of people and then she’s being buried by half a dozen Virtues in the terminal of Logan International.

“Hey sis!”

“Baby T!”

“Auntie Tessa!”

“It’s so good to see you, honey. Scott not with you?” It’s this last question from her mother that has Tessa’s wide, joyful grin turning wooden and stiff for a brief moment.

“No, Mom, why would he be?”

“No reason.” She looks entirely too innocent. “Let me look at you. Beautiful, as ever, but have you been getting enough sleep?”

“I sleep just fine, thanks.” Tessa replies, wondering if her mom means what she thinks she does and hoping that she’s wrong. Jordan smirks at her from behind Kate and Tessa feels certain her mother knows exactly what she’s implying.  _She might as well just ask if I'm sleeping with Scott_ , Tessa thinks mutinously, before moving to hug her brothers. 

“What are we doing first, Tess?” Casey asks as he tries to wrangle Poppy away from Tessa’s leg and hands the pouting child over to his wife, Megan.

“Let’s get you guys checked into the hotel and then I thought we’d go get dinner at Abby Lane. It’s a great little place not far from my apartment.”

“Sounds perfect.” Kevin nods, grabbing both his and his wife Michele’s suitcases and leading the procession outside towards the big taxi van Tessa had booked for them.

“Just wait until Alma gets here.” Jordan whispers as they trail behind the rest of the group. “They’re determined to get you guys together this week. I think they have a series of 'meet-cute' moments that they're trying to make happen.”

“We’re already together, that's really not necessary.” Tessa reminds her sister, trying not to be annoyed and mostly failing. "Can't you stop them?" 

“Believe it or not, I have tried to distract Mom, but Alma's an enabler. Maybe you should just tell them.” Jordan suggests with a pointed look.

“We will, we just want some time on our own without our moms trying to plan our wedding and kids’ names before we’ve even been together a month.”

Jordan pats her shoulder sympathetically. “I get it, Tess, I do. I’m just saying you need to prepare yourself for the onslaught.”

 

The cool thing about Abby Lane is that the whole front wall of the restaurant can be retracted to create a kind of outdoor seating and more open environment, and Tessa requested seats along the glass wall for that very reason. She thought it might be nice for her family to still be able to take in the sights and ambiance of Boston while they eat. 

Her plan backfires spectacularly. 

“Oh look! What a coincidence!” Kate says suddenly as their finishing up their meals, interrupting Kevin’s story about Poppy’s unintentional bring-your-pet-to-class day last week at daycare. (She’d taken a garden snake she’d found outside with her in her backpack and nearly given the teacher a heart attack and made half of the other kids cry.) “Alma!”

Tessa watches as her mother calls out to the short brunette a few yards away, who's surrounded by a few men, one older (her husband Joe?) and three younger, and their families. The woman turns and smiles – not looking at all surprised to see Kate – and suspicions begin to form in Tessa’s head.

“Kate! Fancy seeing you here. We’ve just finished dinner and Scott was going to walk us around Boston Common – care to join us?”

Tessa can see Scott standing at the back of the group, looking at her and mouthing _I’m sorry - this was an accident_  and shrugging helplessly. 

“We’d love to! Poppy could use a chance to stretch her legs before bed. I’m sure we all could.” She waves the waitress down and pays the bill – despite Tessa’s protests – and the open style seating makes it easy for them all to stand up and join the Moirs on the street.

“You must be Scott.” Kate says with too much enthusiasm, reaching out for Scott’s hand.

“Yes mam. It’s nice to finally meet you. I can see where Tessa gets her beauty.” Scott returns her handshake with a polite nod and a friendly smile – looking and acting every inch the teenage boy trying to impress his crush’s mother before prom.

“Oh, stop. You can call me Kate.” She waves her hand at Scott before turning to face Tessa. “He’s quite the charmer, Tess, and very good looking! The picture on your wall didn't do him justice.”

Tessa's hand flies up to smack her forehead as she hears Scott say, "Hold on - picture on your wall?"

"Oh you're that guy?" Kevin asks. "Tess was obsessed with your voice." 

"It was a long time ago." Tessa mutters, refusing to look at him and trying to ignore all the laughter of their various family members. 

"Not that long ago - I'm pretty sure you still like my voice, Virtch." Scott teases and Tessa blushes beet red. 

"The picture's still there, last I checked." Kate comments, torturing her daughter further. "She had quite the crush on you. Played that West Side Story recording non-stop for a really long time." 

" _Mom_." Tessa groans, looking up to find Scott grinning at her. She just knows he's going to pester her about this mercilessly later. 

“Scott, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alma says, taking pity on Tessa and pointedly gesturing with her head between her and Scott, and his ears go pink at the gentle scolding from his mother. 

“Sorry. Mom, this is Tessa – my costar at the Emerson. She’s great – we’re really lucky to have her playing Satine. Tess, this is my mom, Alma, my dad, Joe, and these are my brothers Danny and Charlie and their families.”

Scott rattles off their names and Alma waits until the second he’s done speaking before stepping forward to pull Tessa into a warm hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Tessa dear."

“It’s nice to meet you too, Alma. My mom has said a lot about you. It’s really sweet, the way you two have become friends.”

"We have a common interest." Alma says with a wink at Kate, and Tessa has to fight the urge to groan again. This is going to be a long visit. 

They start walking towards the Common, and Danny falls in line next to her with a friendly smile.  

“Hi Tessa, it’s nice to meet you. I hear you’re a Jays fan too, unlike this dummy over here.” Danny gestures to Scott with his thumb and Tessa laughs.

“He’s stubbornly sticking with those Tigers, that’s for sure.” She agrees, and Scott shakes his head at her in amusement while chatting with her brother Kevin and his daughter Poppy - who's already looking at Scott like he's going to be her new best friend. Not that Tessa can blame her - apparently it runs in the family. 

“It’s too bad about that third game on Monday. I can’t believe the Tigers got a leg up on us. I really thought we’d come from behind and score.”

Tessa can feel her cheeks turning pink and determinedly does _not_ look over at Scott, who she can see out of the corner of her eye is trying not to laugh – having picked up on Danny’s unintentional double-entendre like she did.

“It _is_ too bad. But we did score twice and we’ll come out on top next time, I’m sure.” Tessa says confidently, daring to spare a quick glance at Scott to see if he heard her, only to find that he's already looking at her with heat behind his eyes.

Danny watches them, clearly appraising their behavior, and Tessa rushes into a series of questions about his work as a firefighter to distract him. 

 

When they reach the park Kate snaps a few pictures of the group (preserving important memories - she explains), and Tessa posts one of her and Jordan that she loves before she and Scott lead everyone over to the Cookie Monstah truck for some after-dinner ice cream and cookies. 

 

 

It's an authentic Boston dessert experience, and Poppy insists on sitting on Tessa’s lap while they eat – making it difficult for Tessa to get ice cream into her mouth without spilling.

She can feel chocolate coating the corner of her mouth, and sticks her tongue out to try and lick it off – struggling to get it all.

“Here, T, you missed a bit.” Scott reaches over and wipes at the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and Tessa kicks his foot under the picnic table to stop him from licking it off his finger – which he was clearly moving to do. He wipes it on a napkin instead, looking sheepish, and Tessa can feel the eyes of a whole herd of people watching them like hawks. 

Oh yeah, this is going to be a long, trying visit and they'll be lucky if they come out with their secret intact. 

 

\-------

 

She invites Scott over that night anyway, long after both their families have gone back to their hotels, and the first thing he does is push her up against the wall and kiss her hard. 

"What's that for?" She asks, breathless and already aching for him. 

"For wearing this little crop top  _all day_. It's been driving me absolutely mad not being able to touch you." To prove his point, he runs his fingers along the hem of her shirt, tugging lightly at her piercing before dipping them inside the top of her skirt to tug at it, forcing her hips to arch into his. 

"In my defense, I wasn't planning on seeing you today." Tessa reminds him, reaching to pull his shirt off and toss it onto the entryway floor. 

"Still, I think you should make it up to me." He mutters into her neck before hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. 

"How?" Tessa asks eagerly - imagining all sorts of different things he might want to try. 

"By telling me more about this picture you had on your bedroom wall." He gives her a dopey grin, and Tessa groans - letting her head fall back against the wall with a loud  _thunk_. 

"You were never supposed to find out about that." 

"Too late." He nips at her throat before kissing her mouth and tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth. 

"What do you want to know? I had a crush on you... not exactly embarrassing given our current situation." She emphasizes her point by thrusting up against where he's straining in his jeans, pleased when he leans in to kiss her again and then carries them down the hall, through the kitchen and living area, and into her bedroom.

He drops her onto the bed and immediately crawls over her - arms and legs on either side of her body, caging her in. "I want to know... if you got yourself off to my voice. If you listened to  _Maria_ and touched yourself." 

"Scott..." Tessa's voice trails off with a whine.  _Please don't make me say it_. 

"Did you, Tess?" He unbuttons her shirt slowly, kissing his way down her sternum, opening it wide once all the buttons are undone - but not moving to touch her breasts like he knows she wants. 

" _Please_." 

"Tell me." He commands, and Tessa gives in.

"Yes. Okay? Yes. I laid on my bed and looked at your picture and got off to your voice. Happy now?" Tessa thinks she's never been more embarrassed than at this exact moment, confessing her dirtiest secret to the subject of her youthful fantasies. 

"Incredibly happy." He grins wickedly before taking a nipple into his mouth, and Tessa doesn't think for a long time after that.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this at like 3 a.m. so please forgive any errors.
> 
> The review article is taken from the New York Times and edited to fit the story as needed. :)


	17. So Exciting (The Audience will Stomp and Cheer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the end. I must admit, I never in my wildest dreams imagined this would become the behemoth that it is - I thought for sure a couple of chapters and I'd be done! But it's been a wonderful, fun, wild, difficult journey, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. I hope you've all enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. 
> 
> A note of warning: This chapter includes details of the ending of the stage production of Moulin Rouge. You probably don't care, but just in case - there's your spoiler warning. ;)

** Chapter 17: So Exciting (The Audience will Stomp and Cheer) **

****

Somewhere nearby there is a noise.

A loud, persistent, knocking noise coming from somewhere in the apartment, and it’s disturbing Scott’s sleep.

He’d been having the best dream too - he and Tessa were ice skaters at the Olympics and had just won gold - before it had been so rudely interrupted by whoever decided hammering on Tessa's front door in the morning was a good idea.

“Tess, make it stop.” Scott whines, voice muffled by the pillow that his arms had wrapped around like a koala bear during the night - hugging–it close under his head while he sleeps on his stomach. He can feel Tessa plastered to his back, one of her arms slung loosely over his ribs, still sleeping. How the noise hasn’t woken her up yet is a mystery, but then, Scott's beginning to learn that once she's asleep Tessa can sleep through almost anything.

“ _Tess_.” He tries again when the knocking continues, louder and more insistent this time.

She shifts behind him – peeling her face away from where it had been pressed between his shoulder blades.

“What is it?” Her voice is thick and scratchy with sleep and Scott knows that if he let her she’d fall back asleep again in seconds without question. _Bang bang bang!_

“Noise!” He complains, digging deeper into the comfy mattress – so much better than his own, even though it’s the same brand (he checked). Although that might have something to do with the woman in the bed next to him, but he hasn’t tested the hypothesis.

Tessa rolls over and Scott can hear her pick up her phone from the nightstand while he drifts in and out of awareness. She'll handle the noise problem and then they can go back to sleep. Or, if she's too awake now, they can  _not_ sleep and do something else instead. Scott smirks quietly at the thought, keeping his eyes closed and waiting to see which it will be. 

“Oh my God. Scott, get up!” Tessa yells, her voice switching from sleepy to loud and panicky in an instant and Scott jolts awake in alarm.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My family is here. I’ve got missed texts and calls from my mom and Jordan. We’re supposed to all go get breakfast this morning and I forgot!”

“Shit.” Scott jumps out of the bed, rummaging around the room for his boxers and pants while Tessa throws on her bathrobe.

“ _Hide!_ ” She hisses before running out of the bedroom, leaving Scott standing there naked, an item of clothing in each hand, looking absolutely ridiculous.

He hesitates for a moment before tugging on his clothes, wondering where his shirt ended up (he can’t find the damn thing anywhere), and then it hits him - Tessa had taken it off in the entryway the night before, and it’s definitely still lying there where anyone could see. It’s too late to retrieve it now though, all he can do is pray that no one notices.

Scanning the room for options for a hiding place, Scott rules out hiding behind the door or in the bathroom as both being equally too risky.

“I can’t believe you forgot about our breakfast plans.” He hears Jordan say from the other room, and now he’s really out of time.

Scott drops to the floor and slides under the bed. It’s an excruciatingly tight fit, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to crawl back out again once the coast is clear, but he can hear Tessa explaining that she forgot to set an alarm and the sounds of a small crowd of people entering the apartment and that means it’s definitely too late to do anything now but wait and pray.

“Wow, Tessa, this is such a nice place. I hope you sent the producers a thank you card.” Kate says, and Scott can tell she’s wandering through the small apartment and taking it all in. The sounds of cupboards and doors opening and closing giving him some hint as to her whereabouts.

“I still can’t believe you of all people forgot an alarm. What were you doing last night?” Jordan asks, disbelief coloring her words – along with the tell-tale sounds of a teasing smile.

“Nothing. Sometimes mistakes happen. I’m not perfect, Jord.” Tessa grumbles, sounding every bit the youngest child.

“Could have fooled me! It’s almost ten and you’re not even dressed.” Jordan shoots back.

“It’s fine.” Kate cuts in. “I’m sure Tessa had a good reason for forgetting to set her alarm, and I’m sure Poppy would love to see Auntie Tessa’s closet and help her choose an outfit, wouldn’t you dear? Come on, Tess, let’s see what cute things you’ve acquired in New York.”

Scott watches from his cramped location as four pairs of feet walk into the room – three adults and one child.

“Mom, I really don’t think that Poppy is interested in-“

“Don’t be ridiculous. She loves clothes.” The sound of someone, who he assumes is Kate, throwing open the closet doors and rifling through the racks of clothing fills the room.

“Are you looking for something specific in there? Because you’re kind of tearing my closet apart.” Tessa deadpans, but Scott can tell she’s nervous underneath her attempted cool exterior.

“No, no. Just seeing what you’ve got.” Kate sounds disappointed. “Are you going to put that shirt in the hamper? You’ve been holding onto it since we arrived.”

 _Oh. Tessa has my shirt_ , Scott realizes, making a mental note to retrieve it from the hamper at the first opportunity.

“Wow, Tess, I didn’t know you liked shirts with moose on them. How Canadian of you.” Jordan says, clearly digging at her sister, and Scott can practically hear the gears in Tessa’s head spinning as she tries to figure out how to explain it away.

“It’s a pajama shirt. I like baggy clothes to sleep in. And what’s wrong with a little national pride?”

 _Here, here!_ Scott quietly cheers, then clamps his mouth shut to keep a groan from slipping out. There’s a charlie-horse developing in his left calf muscle and he really hopes that they’ll be leaving soon so that he can escape his prison.

Tessa asks Poppy to help her choose an outfit and everything seems to be going well and moving speedily along (he can almost taste his freedom), until disaster strikes. The little girl drops the Disney Princess ball she’d been holding and Scott can do nothing but watch as it bounces and rolls under the bed – hitting him in the face.

“Oops!” The little girl giggles and starts to kneel down to retrieve it.

Tessa moves faster, though, “I’ll get it for you, pumpkin.” She reaches under the bed, making eye contact with him and briefly caressing his cheek in apology, before grabbing the ball and standing back up. “Ta-da!”

Scott lets out a long, quiet sigh and closes his eyes in relief. Poppy certainly would have screamed when she saw him and that would have been a nightmare to try and explain. 

Finally, after what feels like a million years, Tessa must be ready to go because they all leave the room and he can hear the front door close a few minutes later.

Scott carefully drags himself out from under the bed, wondering if his joints and muscles will ever recover, and retrieves his t-shirt.

He spends the next fifteen minutes looking for his shoes and socks – eventually finding one wedged under the couch and the other shoved behind the kitchen garbage can. Laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, he shoots a text off to Tessa.

 

 **Scott:** That was close!

 

 **Tessa:** Too close.

 

 **Scott:** I didn’t get my morning kiss. :(

 

 **Tessa:** I’ll make it up to you later. Be glad nobody caught us!

 

He does a few stretches to try and stem any lingering side-effects from his contortionist venture under the bed before heading downstairs to his own apartment to shower and change – only to find his family standing outside his door, expressions ranging from bored to annoyed.

“Good morning.” He stutters in surprise.

“Good morning.” His mom says back, looking unimpressed by his disheveled appearance, and Scott reaches up self-consciously to smooth down his wild bed-head. “Where have you been?”

“Out for… a walk. I went to get coffee.”

“Then where’s the coffee?” Charlie asks, pointedly looking at Scott’s empty hands.

“I drank it.”

"And why are you wearing the same clothes from last night?” Danny asks with a smirk and Scott gulps. He knew it. He knew hiding anything from his brothers, especially Danny, would be next to impossible.

“I got dressed fast. Let me inside so that I can change. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Did you forget we were going to tour Fenway today?” His dad asks as Scott lets them all into the small apartment.

“No, I’m just running a little late.”

“As usual.” Charlie chimes in, and for once Scott’s grateful for his track record of perpetual tardiness.

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec, I’ll be right back.”

He takes the quickest shower of his life – hiding the spare toothbrush he keeps for Tessa on the counter in the bathroom cupboard and glancing around to make sure there’s nothing else of hers on display.

When he emerges freshly dressed and ready to go, he finds Danny holding up a jug of milk in confusion. “Since when do you drink almond milk?”

"And why do you have the Audrey Hepburn DVD collection?” Charlie chimes in by the TV.

“And a scented candle?” His dad holds up the cinnamon candle that Tessa had brought over just a few days ago - claiming it made his apartment feel more _homey_.

“And this is a very nice throw blanket.” His mom adds, lifting the soft blanket that had been draped across the back of the couch, also a gift from Tessa (“I like to snuggle when I watch movies” she’d explained, throwing the new blanket over them and burrowing into his side).

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you had a girl staying with you.” His dad says with a low chuckle, and Scott hopes his face isn’t giving him away. It’s one thing to have his brothers tease him, it’s something else entirely when it’s his father doing it.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad. Can’t a guy like comfort and nice smells and classic movies?”

“Of course he can.” His mom says with a soothing pat on the arm. “I just happened to notice that Tessa shared a quote by Audrey Hepburn on her InstaStory last week.”

 _"You_ know what an InstaStory is?” Scott turns to his mother in disbelief. Up until this moment he’d thought they were a family of relative Luddites.

"Of course. Cara set me up with an account last time she came over for a visit and showed me how to use it. It was a nice quote. Something like… ‘The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.’”

Scott’s heart flips over in his chest. “She posted that?”

“Yes, wasn’t it a sweet sentiment?” His mom is eyeing him like a hawk and Scott carefully schools his emotions so that he doesn't immediately give away just how much Tessa's subliminal message means to him. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to the casual reminders that she loves him like he loves her.

“I guess.” He replies with a shrug – trying not to think about the fact that she probably posted that after they fell asleep hugging each other on the couch after watching Roman Holiday and brainstorming their dream trip to Italy.

“You're a dork, Scottie.” Charlie teases. “Let’s get going.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scott scrolls through his Instagram feed in an attempt to stave off the building anxiety in the pit of his empty stomach - adding his own post to the slew of others. 

He’s in costume, his hair is perfectly coiffed, make-up is done, mic attached – in other words, he’s ready to go. But there’s still fifteen minutes to showtime and he’s trying not to think about it. Trying not to follow every tick and tock of the clock on the wall. He’ll meet up with Tessa in ten minutes for their pre-show hug, but until then he can do nothing but wait.

It's funny. Up until this moment, it's been Tessa who's been full of anxiety and nerves while Scott's been cool as a cucumber - but now that opening night is here, the anxiety has hit him like a ton of bricks.

 

 **Danny:** This theatre is amazing. I’m very impressed. Total fire hazard though.

 

 **Charlie:** Talk about a crowd! Full house tonight, bro. Congrats!

 

 **Mom:** Make sure you drink enough water. Have you eaten anything? Don’t be nervous – you’re going to do great! Break a leg, sweet boy!

 

Scott gulps and puts his phone away in the drawer before reaching for his water bottle. It doesn’t matter how many times he does this – the first night of a show is always nerve-wracking. He keeps expecting that at some point he’ll be such a seasoned performer that this won’t phase him anymore, but so far that hasn’t been the case. He still feels like the twenty-one year old kid starring in West Side Story for the first time, throwing up backstage until seconds before his first scene.

Palms sweaty, throat dry, and images of all the ways things can go wrong running through his head – from mics cutting out to lighting problems to suddenly forgetting all his lines - Scott can feel himself turning into a mess.

A knock on the door disturbs his cycle of worry and he calls out permission to enter – expecting Alex or one of the stagehands.

Instead, Tessa walks in – dressed up in her opening costume with top-hat tilted coquettishly on her head. She looks every bit Satine except for the fear in her eyes – that’s all Tess.

“Hey. I know I’m a little early. We agreed on seven-fifty-five, but I just couldn’t-“

He doesn’t let her finish the sentence before he’s out of his chair and wrapping her up in a warm embrace – burying his head into her neck as much as he can without messing up either of their hair or make-up. Her face tucks into him as well, and her hand comes to rest on his lower back - holding him gently, but firmly, against her.

They don’t speak – just breathe in unison as they let their heartbeats synchronize – needing no words to convey how they feel. They both know how nervous they are and how important tonight is, but somehow that fades into the background in the face of the knowledge that they’re in this together.

“You ready, Virtch?” He says quietly after the stage manager gives the one minute warning over the PA system.

“I think so. Are you, Moir?”

"Ready as I’ll ever be, but I think I need a kiss for good luck.” Teasing works. Teasing helps ease some of the panic floating between them - loosening their lungs like the stays on one of her corsets. 

They lean back just enough so that they can give each other a quick peck on the lips - not risking anything more intense than that in case it messes up Tessa's bright red lipstick.

“Break a leg.” Tessa whispers.

“I’ll see you under the wings of the windmill.” Scott whispers back before releasing her so that they can walk hand-in-hand towards the stage.

 

 

Scott walks slowly down the aisle as Christian, relishing the shocked gasps from audience members as they realize he's there. His own eyes are fixed on Tessa,  _Satine_ , - alone at center stage - in her frayed red dress and watching him as he approaches. When he's finally standing across from her, she speaks - her voice wobbly with emotion. 

"If he sees you it will go badly for us both. You know what a monster he is.”

“I’ve been walking the streets. Going mad with every step. All I can see is you and him - in his arms, in his bed. My heart can’t take it.” Scott's own voice sounds wrecked, a by-product of his emotions and the intensity of Roxanne a few minutes before, adding to the gravity of Christian's actions. 

“I don’t love you.” Satine claims, turning away from him. 

“Lie to yourself, but not to me!” Christian spits out.  

Satine turns back to him, reaching out with her arms in supplication. “I’ve made my choice, let me be damned for it.”

“Then let us both be damned for it.” Christian pulls out the gun, which the audience knows is loaded, aims it at her, and everyone gasps. 

“Then do it and let me die for love.” Satine throws her arms out wide, closing her eyes. 

“Look at me! Look at me, Satine." She does, only to see that he's stopped pointing the gun at her and is instead pointing it at his own head. "Why else live, if not for love?” His voice comes out in a sob, and Satine looks panicked - trying to find a way to stop him. Slowly, she begins to sing through her tears.

“It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide. I don’t have much money, but boy if I did I’d buy a big house where we both could live." Christian looks up at her, trying to take in her words through his pain. "And you can tell everybody that this is your song." She reaches out to take the gun from him, and he lets her - moved by her singing their secret song. "It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done. I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words-" Christian joins in, adding his voice to hers as they quietly sing, "How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world.”

_And you can tell everybody_

_That this is your song_

_It may be quite simple but_

_Now that it’s done_

_I hope you don’t mind_

_I hope you don’t mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is_

_While you’re in the wor-_

Satine starts gasping for air, falling to the floor, and Christian reaches out to catch her. “I think... this is goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” He looks at her in confusion and growing desperation. 

“Carry on without me, Christian. Tell our story. I love you.” Satine struggles to speak, reaching up to caress his face. 

“What?” He looks around for help, struggling to understand what's happening. Scott can tell that the audience is sitting on the edge of their seats. 

“Tell our story. That way we’ll always be together.” Satine begs, holding onto his shirt and coughing again.

“ _Satine_.”

“I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words…” Satine struggles to sing the lyrics until it becomes too much. She succumbs to the illness and dies in his arms. The sounds of audience members crying can be heard throughout the theatre, even though many of them knew what was coming. 

Christian holds onto her body, crying over her, before managing to finish the song. “How wonderful life is, while you’re in the world.”

Bells ring out – striking eighteen times while Satine's make-shift family from the Moulin Rouge come onstage to pick her up and carry her off, leaving Christian to his grief. 

As the last few chimes ring out, the notes of  _Nature Boy_ start to play quietly in the background. Christian stands up and addresses the audience. “The days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, and then one day I started writing again. A love story. Our love story... Lautrec’s show at the Moulin Rouge was a great success. Zidler regained control of the club and Satine’s family was safe. So that’s how a young man came to Paris to find himself, and instead he found all this. A place to belong. People to love. And a woman… a woman that showed him all that truly matters in life. Truth.”

The Argentinian steps forward, “Beauty.” 

“Freedom” Lautrec adds proudly. 

Christian smiles wistfully at the audience, “Love.”

_Never knew I could feel like this_

_Like I’ve never seen the sky before_

_I want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Every day I love you more and more_

_Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?_

_Telling me to give you everything_

_Seasons may change, winter to spring_

_But I love you until the end of time._

 

The rest of the cast walks out onto the stage to join in Christian's song.

 

_And there’s no mountain to high_

_No river too wide_

_Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side_

_Storm clouds may gather, stars may collide_

_But I love you until the end of time._

_Come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you until my dying day!_

_Come what may!_

 

The four Diamond Dogs step forward to sing, " _he_ _y sista, go sista, soul sista, flow sista"_ and snap their fingers in unison, and the lights go dark. 

Colors burst and confetti falls like sparkling snow in a blizzard and the audience claps and cheers in adulation and delight as they take their bows, but all Scott can see is Tessa.

Tessa with her big green eyes shining up at him through watery eyelashes – the softest, most wonderful smile on her face. It’s enough to make Scott’s eyes water too as he reaches up with his right hand to squeeze the juncture between her shoulder and her neck and press the side of his head against hers. He's proud. So proud. Proud of her, proud of himself, proud of their whole team for pulling this off. It's one of the best moments of both his personal life and his career. 

He grins down at his family in the front row as the music picks back up and the cast breaks into _Lady Marmalade_ again, encouraging the audience to dance along as they sing _more, more, more, more!_ before transitioning into _Hey Ya!_ by OutKast, which only delights the audience further.

The theatre dissolves into one big party as the cast and audience sing and dance together, and the feeling is infectious – there isn’t a soul in the room who isn’t grinning madly and having the time of their life, and Scott grabs onto Tessa’s hand and links their fingers together as they grin and sing along – wanting to feel connected to her in this moment. To remember this feeling forever.

 

 

“Alright guys, You’ve got fifteen minutes to get changed and then we need you ready for the stage door. There’s a massive crowd out there dying to meet you all.” The stage manager tells them as they file off the stage and towards their respective dressing rooms.

“Hey Holly, did you see that blonde girl sitting fourth row center?” Jeigh calls out across the sweaty mass of bodies trying to hurry down the staircase. “She slapped her friend’s leg when you walked out onstage and couldn’t take her eyes off of you. I think you’ve made a conquest.”

“Oh, I saw her!” Holly yells back. “Gorgeous smile. I fully intend to find her in the crowd and introduce myself just as soon as I’m out of this corset.”

Everybody laughs and there's a palpable feeling of adrenaline and excitement coursing through them all. Scott squeezes Tessa's hand where it's still laced with his.

"See you in a couple minutes?" 

"Definitely."  

Thankfully, Scott has a tiny en-suite attached to his dressing room, which means that he can take a quick shower before getting dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans and heading back to the stage door exit. Tessa takes a few minutes longer to join him, but eventually she does – looking perfect in her “Girls Can Do Anything” t-shirt and messy-bun.

“Alright, we’ll have the ensemble members go first, one-by-one, then Ricky, Sahr, Tam, followed by Tessa and then Scott. Tess, we’ll keep a security guard with you the entire time – not that we’re worried! But just as a precaution.” The stage manager instructs them, before opening the door to a round of cheers so that Robyn can walk out.

The screams get progressively louder with each cast member, and at one point Scott can hear the crowd start chanting _Tes-sa Tes-sa Tes-sa!_

When it’s finally their turn to greet the fans the response is overwhelming – the sheer number of people who have crowded into the dingy alleyway behind the theatre is insane. It’s even more overwhelming to know that they’re here to see _them_.  

Scott’s done stage doors before, of course he has – he’s even received his fair share of rousing responses (mostly from teenage girls) – but nothing on this kind of scale.

“Will you sign my Playbill?” The girl first in line, who’s probably around twenty years old, asks him eagerly, shoving it forward into his chest.

"Of course!” Scott replies with an easy smile. “I can do this with one hand.” He pulls off the cap of the sharpie and starts to sign his name.

“With one hand as opposed to two?” Tessa calls out from a few feet down the line, and how she heard him he has no idea, only that now he’s flushed with minor embarrassment.

“Yeah I usually write with two hands.” He chuckles, making fun of himself, “Way to call me out on that, T. Probably could have just let that go.”

She grins at him, not the least bit sorry for her teasing, and Scott can’t resist grinning back at her – the two of them almost forgetting the crowd for a moment until the screaming becomes overbearing again.

There’s a young girl talking to Tessa who looks back and forth between them with what can only be described as heart-eyes, saying to Tessa while she signs the Playbill, “You guys are so cute together. Are you dating?”

“Wow. That’s such a compliment.” Tessa doesn’t miss a beat, giving the girl a warm smile, “We try really hard to make these characters convincing, so it’s lovely to know that we made you feel a connection.”

She’s so much better at this than he is – answering everyone’s invasive questions with diplomacy and ease. Whereas Scott’s so full of adrenaline and riding so high from their performance that he can’t help but be effusive when he’s asked about his costar.

He signs an autograph. _What’s Tessa like in person?_ Takes a selfie. _She’s amazing. Absolutely amazing._

Autograph. _How is it working with Tessa?_ Selfie. _It’s like a dream come true. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner_.

Autograph. _Are you and Tessa in love?_ Selfie. _There are so  many things I love about her_.

The last one is probably his most risky, careless answer – but it’s still ambiguous enough that Scott doesn’t worry too much about it. Besides, weren't they told - lifetimes ago - to fuel the dating rumors? If anyone asks, he'll use that as an excuse. 

He looks down the line to find Tessa and sees Holly past her at the far end chatting up the blonde from earlier with a coy, flirtatious smile on her face. The girl giggles in response to something Holly said and she places a hand on the blonde’s arm and lets it linger.

Scott smiles to himself before catching Tessa’s eye and gesturing to Holly – making sure that Tessa sees what’s going on. When she looks back at him she gives him a conspiratorial wink and they both watch as the two women leave together – Holly apparently enjoying success in more ways than one tonight, and Scott's happy for her. She deserves to find love, too.

Eventually they make it to the end of the line and Scott’s cheeks ache from taking so many selfies and smiling so much. Tessa waits for him to finish before the two of them wave one last goodbye to the crowd and head back inside to find their families, who are supposed to be waiting for them in their dressing rooms.

“So I’ll see you later tonight? After our families head back to their hotels?”

“Are you sure? It’s going to be pretty late by then.” Tessa says, but Scott knows she’s just being polite. They both can feel the electricity running under their skin – looking for an outlet. Looking to connect with each other in the most primal way after such an exhilarating evening.

“Absolutely. I’ll text you as soon as I’m in the clear.”

“I can’t wait.” Tessa leans up to kiss him, and just then Scott’s dressing room door bursts open – revealing both of their families crammed inside.

“Congratulations you guys!” Danny yells out with his arms thrown wide – knocking Jordan in the face by accident. She punches his shoulder in return, and it's a little odd to see just how comfortable their families are becoming with each other. 

Tessa drops back down to her heels with pink cheeks and Scott hopes that nobody noticed their slightly compromising position. Hopefully it looked like they were just hugging.

“Thank you!” Scott steps forward into the massive group hug with a joyful grin. “What are you all doing in here?” The question isn’t directed at anyone in particular, but Jordan is the one who answers.

"We thought it would be easier this way, since we weren’t sure whose dressing room you guys would be cozied up in after the show.”

“Tessa, I don’t know how this idiot convinced you to give him a chance, but welcome to the family, sweetheart.” Charlie kisses Tessa on the cheek, laughing as she stands there in shock.    

“What?” Scott says in unison with her, as they both look around at their family members – who are all smiling like Cheshire cats.

"Come on, bro, do you think we’re stupid? The Instagram posts, the way you talk about each other, the stuff in your apartment, the way she looks at you, the way you can’t go more than ten seconds without touching her.” Danny looks at them both pointedly, and Scott rushes to deny it.

“That’s not true-“

“Your hand is on her back right now, Scott.” Jordan says dryly.

 _Oh_. She’s right. He hadn’t even noticed. And by the look on Tessa’s face, she hadn’t noticed either.

“Plus, we know Scott was hiding under your bed yesterday morning, Tessa.” Kate says and Scott knows that he and Tessa are _both_ as red as cherries at the revelation that her mother knew he was there.

“How did you-“ Tessa sputters, and everyone laughs.

“Oh, honey, I’m your mother. I always know when you’re keeping secrets. Waking up late? A shirt that clearly wasn’t yours? The way your eyes kept nervously scanning around the bedroom? Once I proved he wasn’t in the closet there was really only one place for him to be. Frankly I’m just amazed that he could fit.”

“That’s what she said.” Danny whispers to Charlie and Scott smacks him on the back of the head, embarrassed and sincerely hoping that Tessa (or anyone else in her family) didn’t hear that comment.

Tessa's laugh bubbles up, breaking free – loud and cheerful in the crowded room. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this right now. I thought we were doing such a good job of keeping this a secret.”

“You are _terrible_ at keeping secrets, Tess.” Jordan says. “A flashing neon sign would have been less obvious.”

“Mom are you _crying_?” Scott asks suddenly, noticing the tears running down his mother's face as she dabs at them with a tissue in the back of the room.

“I’m just so happy for you, Scottie. My little boy finally found his happy ending.”

A chorus of _awwws_ breaks out as Scott shoves his way forward and hugs his mom, pulling her in tight and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks, Mom. I really did.”

 

 

Hours later, when their families are finally, _finally_ , back at their hotels and Scott and Tessa are snuggled up in her bed together - sweat cooling on their naked skin - Scott takes a moment to reflect.

“Well, it’s been kind of a crazy forty-eight hours. How are you feeling?” He asks with some trepidation as Tessa lies quietly with her head over his heart.

“Honestly?” She asks, propping her chin up on his sternum so that she can look him in the eye.

Scott continues tracing patterns into her skin, following the shadows coming from the light through the window. “Yeah, honestly.” If she’s upset about any of it, he needs to know. He knows she wasn’t planning on revealing their relationship to their families so soon – even by accident.

“I feel… wonderful.” Her smile spreads slowly, until it’s lighting up her whole face, and she leans up to kiss him. Full of tenderness and love.

“Yeah?” He asks after she pulls away, smiling at her in return.

“Yes. We couldn’t have asked for a better opening night. Our families are ridiculous, but totally supportive, and you make me happier than I ever remember being. So, yes, I feel wonderful. How do you feel?”

Scott pulls her hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips gently to the skin on the inside of her wrist before reaching out to cup her face – running his thumb along her cheekbone. Taking in the sight of her - his Tessa. The woman who blew into his life like a whirlwind - completely unexpected and changing everything for the better. The woman he loves. 

“I feel… _spectacular_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't mind the series of Insta posts. It made me sad not to include them, so I did what I wanted and threw in a few extras. :D
> 
> Also, as always - I edited this super late at night, so please excuse any errors.


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